


That's how I know; You are the One

by Abbypd



Series: The One [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Sort Of, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbypd/pseuds/Abbypd
Summary: Stiles tried not to think about how Derek had said more words to him in the last few hours than he had in the months that they had known each other. The alpha didn’t seem too pleased to be baby-sitting a wounded human though, so maybe not that much had really changed. However, Stiles tried to relish in it as much as possible.“Okay, so,” Stiles started to say, wanting to ask when he was allowed to go home, as he tried to sit up a little. His back was starting to hurt from the couch, despite it being pretty comfortable, but the pain shooting through him at the movement made it entirely impossible.He quickly lay back down and tried to heave in shallow breathes through the pain.“Don’t move,” Derek snarled at him, but rushed over to take some of the it away nevertheless.“You’re stuck on this couch. Deal with it.”Or where Stiles nearly dies and Derek is sort of forced to look after him and actually does a pretty decent job.





	1. Life,

**Author's Note:**

> I have had writer's block for a year and a half and even though I have started multiple stories, I haven't finished on in ages. (don't worry, this one is pretty much done and I promise I will upload all of it soon)  
> Then I started re-watching Teen Wolf and reading a couple of AMAZING stories, and finally I had found the motivation and inspiration to start writing again!!
> 
> So I guess I should thank all of you lovely writers and the creators of teen wolf lmao. And Stiles and Derek for being the most adorable, ship-worthy characters to be in a show EVER.

The internet had provided Stiles with the knowledge of a lot of epic abilities and heightened senses that werewolves possess, but he only just realized how all of those websites had forgotten to mention one last endowment that all of the shapeshifter he knew had as well: the ability to pretend like _nothing_ out of the ordinary ever happened to them.

 

Because, while not even one week ago the pack – including Peter Hale, who was apparently resurrected from the dead by the girl Stiles had been in love with since forever – had killed their principal and watched as Jackson was almost killed but instead magically transformed into a werewolf instead of a kanima, all of the betas and humans of the Hale pack were roaming the halls of their high school like none of it had happened at all.

Allison and Scott were standing near Allison’s locker, Scott holding her bag while she loaded it with the books she needed that day. They still weren’t completely back to normal, but considering Allison’s mother had taken her own life because Derek bit her to stop her from killing Scott, Stiles liked to thing they handled the situation pretty well.

Scott was still wearing that stupid-love-sick grin wherever he went, tuned in to listen to Allison’s heartbeat or voice when she was in another class from time to time and the two of them still secretly held hands beneath the desks whenever they sat near each other during classes. So really, they were fine.

Lydia and Jackson were waiting for them, a little to the side while wrapped up in their own, whispered conversation. Jackson didn’t wear that same, tired face he had for _months_ whenever Lydia was talking to him but instead smiled sweetly at her. And while everybody believed it was because of their soulmate-like occurrence where she was the only one to make him aware of his own reality, Stiles believed it was because Jackson only now got to know the real Lydia Martin. The Lydia Martin Stiles himself had known for quite a while, and had been in love with even longer; the Lydia Martin that was extremely smart, could make Molotov cocktails on the fly and who always seemed to be one step ahead of the rest of the pack even though she was the last to find out about the supernatural.

 

Isaac, followed by Erica and Boyd who were timidly holding each other’s hand – which, _finally_ – walked up at Scott and talked to him in hushed voices.

Stiles knew what it was about, knew very well that Derek and Peter hadn’t been spotted by either one of them ever since that night and that they had no idea whether they were still in the United States or not. He knew how much it worried the pack, to have their alpha so far out of their reach while most of them were still learning how to control their shifts during full moons and all. And god knows how long it would take before the next threat would show up and make their lives a living hell again.

But to any other, it would look like they were just discussing homework or talking about the upcoming party or whatever humans talked about this early in the morning. Stiles couldn’t really recall what it was like to be human, even though he technically still was. He wondered if the wolves would allow him to introduce a new word for people like him and Allison and Lydia; humans who were ‘in the know’ and who helped supernaturals save the world over and over again.

 

Then the bell rang and Stiles grinned at no one in particular as he watched Jackson flinch. The smile disappeared just as quick as it had come, however, when Lydia comforted him by lying a hand on his cheek and kissing him softly before heading towards her homeroom.

Stiles let out a sigh in frustration but couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jackson, who walked up to him slowly. How that jackass ever ended up with the absolute greatest girl to ever grace these school halls was still a mystery to him; one he’d never try not to solve.

“What are you looking at, Stilinski?” Jackson asked with a single eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk around his lips. Stiles wondered if he could smell the jealousy coming off of him, and then hoped it stank. Not for the first time did he regret his former decisions of not just killing Jackson when they had the chance.

 

## ***

 

“Jesus, Stiles, did you not see a street light on your way home from the game, or what?” Finstock cackled when Stiles walked out on the field at the end of the day, taking in the large graze on his cheekbone and the burst in his slightly swollen bottom lip. The rest of the team laughed along, except Scott (obviously, bless him) and Jackson, who refused to look at anything but his own shoes. 

“No, I didn’t coach; I was too busy reminiscing about how I single-handedly saved their collective asses from the embarrassment that was supposed to be a lacrosse game.”

Finstock raised his eyebrows in surprise and was about to open his mouth to probably tell Stiles to shut the hell up and go run around the field until he passed out, but then he seemed to remember the game and who had indeed been the one to score all the much needed goals.

This resulted in a long, tiring rant about how – although they eventually did get their happily-ever-after – last Friday night was _never_ to be repeated. Coach talked about everything that went wrong according to him and blamed at least half of it on Greenberg, then told Scott to get his damn grades up so he wouldn’t have to be benched during the next game.

Stiles wondered if he even knew Gerard was no longer principal, - or rather, alive - and when he looked over at Scott, the boy shrugged lazily at him. It confirmed his suspicions about werewolves’ ability to pretend like nothing happened or like they didn’t care. 

 

Practise was the same as it ever was. No matter how good Stiles had been that one night when it had mattered most, he still played like shit. Admittedly, he played better than, lets say, a year ago but it was nothing compared to that one, miraculous night.

Coach kept groaning and burying his head in his hands every time Stiles missed a shot or lost track of the ball. He actually ripped up the string that was around his whistle when Stiles bumped into Danny’s chest, causing both of them to fall on their asses in the dirty mud. Danny didn’t really seem to care, but he was too good to be true anyways. Jackson didn’t deserve a friend like him, Stiles figured when the co-captain did nothing to help his best friend up, even though he was standing right next to him.

 

At the end of it all, when Stiles was putting on his shirt and getting ready to go home to his dad, Scott came to stand close to him, which Stiles knew was code for ‘ _I am going to talk about the supernatural right here, right now because it’s a matter of life and death but no one can actually hear’._  

“I need your help,” he said, looking around him to make sure no one could hear them. Or no one but the other two werewolf Lacrosse players, actually, but Stiles figured it wasn’t much of a problem if they heard.

“What now?” Stiles asked with a sigh, because even though he loved Scott to death, he was getting pretty sick of the whole situation he had gotten the two of them in.

Scott did his best to pull a puppy-dog face, but it had lost some of its power since Stiles had seen his actual-dog face.

“Jackson has to learn how to control his shift as soon as possible with the upcoming game and the full moon is in less than two weeks. I don’t think Derek’s going to take care of it and I am not sure I trust Jackson to figure it out on his own…”

Stiles had a bad feeling about where this was going, but nodded to encourage Scott to continue either way.

“So, I agreed to help him after school on the days we don’t have to practise. Tomorrow is supposed to be the first day, but I promised Allison I’d be at her mother’s funeral which is also tomorrow…”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “and now you want me to play yoda instead?”

Scott smiled hopefully at him and no matter how much Stiles hated himself for it, he agreed nonetheless.

“But you better make sure someone comes with, because I am _so_ not going to do it on my own.”

“Already taken care of,” Scott answered him with a content little smile, “Lydia and Jackson will both be at the Lacrosse field right after school.”

“ _Lydia?”_  Stiles all but screeched, gaining the attention of the few players who hadn’t left yet and blushing slightly right after. Then he continued to glower at his supposedly best friend.

“I was actually hoping for someone like Isaac and/or Boyd; someone with muscles and claws and teeth to save my sorry ass if Jackson loses it and decides to take it out on me.”

And, just because he could and to prove his point, he added: “like you occasionally did.”

“Lydia was the only one who could bring him back to reality when he was a kanima, remember?” Scott asked, looking guilty for making Stiles do this. He did have a good point, however.

“I think that if anyone should be there with you, it is her.”

Stiles sighed as loudly as possible while maintaining eye-contact with his friend, and then mumbled he was right and that he’d do it.

 

He was _so_ going to regret this during the upcoming twenty-four hours.

 

## ***

 

The first lesson of ‘ _how to control your urges to maim and kill’_ hadn’t even begun yet and Stiles already regretted every single decision he had ever made that had lead him to this very moment. Jackson came walking his way while looking at Stiles as if he was already planning a way to murder him as slowly and painfully as possible. And Stiles hadn’t even done anything to upset him, yet - or not on purpose, at least.

Lydia walked next to him, holding his hand and looking like she was faking the confident yet careless look on her face. Stiles couldn’t really blame her; he still felt a little nervous too whenever he had to face wolves, even if it was just Scott.

He was prepared though, and he had done this before so he wasn’t too freaked out to throw balls at Jackson until his heart rate went up enough for him to lose control and shift. Scott had already given him the necessary information about anchors and how to use them to regain control over his body and mind and if that didn’t work, than there was always Lydia. She was Jackson’s version of an Allison, which had worked perfectly for Scott every single time.

 

“Stilinski,” Jackson said as a way to acknowledge him, and Stiles nodded at him as a greeting. Lydia’s hello was a little kinder, but Stiles still got the feeling she wasn’t completely voluntarily present.

“Okay, so how are we going to do this?” she asked as she let go of her boyfriend’s hand and crossed her arms in front of her chest, shifting a little so all of her weight was on one leg instead of two. It was second nature to her, Stiles knew.

“I am going to throw balls at Jackson until he gets angry enough to want to kill me and then he has to try and not kill me,” Stiles shrugged, because that honest to god was all that was to say about this. Lydia gaped at him and then rolled her eyes while Jackson smirked at him, saying “that won’t take long at all, then.”

“Ha ha, funny,” Stiles mocked him with very little humour, taking coach’s heart monitor from his bag and handing it to his werewolf pupil, commanding him to put it on already.

He quickly put it on and stood in the middle of the field, ready for Stiles to hurt him with balls.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to hit me from that distance, dweeb?” Jackson asked with an innocent look on his face as Stiles got ready to throw his first ball. Instead of answering him, he aimed and swung, hitting Jackson’s left shoulder hard enough for him to take on step back as he groaned in pain. Stiles looked at Lydia with a proud grin on his face, but she was just looking at Jackson with worried eyes, as if one ball would be enough for him to wolf out.

Stiles threw another ball, which hit Jackson straight in his stomach. He doubled over and actually growled at Stiles when he stood back up again, looking both annoyed and pained.

“It’ll heal,” Stiles shrugged lazily, then swung again. And again, and again.

He hit Jackson’s chest a few times, his knee, his lower arm, his head and finally his crotch. Next to him, he could see Jackson’s heart rate going up steadily, but Stiles feared it would take a while before they would finally reach the point where Jackson would lose complete control over his body.

Even as the next ball hit him straight in the face, which caused his nose to bleed quite badly, Jackson still wasn’t angry enough to act on it.

“You’ve got the be kidding me,” Stiles muttered under his breath, growing rather impatient.

He looked at Lydia again, who was fighting the urge to run up to her boyfriend and comfort him and wipe the blood off his face and that’s when he came up with a new strategy.

 

“Hey Lydia,” he yelled at the girl to gain her attention, then aimed and swung, “watch out!”

He could only hope and pray the ball wouldn’t actually hit her, since she didn’t heal as easily as the wolves did and an angry Lydia Martin was _way_ scarier than an angry werewolf.

“Stiles!” she screamed at him either way, sounding offended. Her face was going from shocked to angry to understanding, and they both turned to look at Jackson, who was breathing heavily now and leaning forward a little, hiding his face.

“Jackson?” Lydia asked carefully, already taking a step towards him.

 

The boy stood up straight then, growling low and looking straight at Stiles with his glowing, yellow eyes. The boy chuckled nervously and as if on cue, took a few steps back.

“Okay, Jackson. Remember what Scott told you…” he tried to keep his voice steady, but Jackson was already coming his way with his claws and fangs out, his entire facial expression screaming murder.

“Try to find your anchor; focus on it.”

Jackson, however, continued to growl at him even as Lydia called his name and tried to stop him.

“You can control it Jackson, I know you can,” Stiles started babbling nervously as he turned to run away, but the other boy quickened his pace as well and was now running at him full speed. Lydia was screaming, begging him to stop but no matter what she did, Jackson wasn’t going to stop.

Stiles ran as fast as possible, yelling for Isaac, Boyd and Erica in the hope that one of them was close enough to hear and safe him. There was no way he could defend himself against a werewolf; he didn’t even bring his bat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stiles yelled in a panicked, high-pitched voice. He didn’t dare look back but he could hear Jackson getting closer to him, and it wouldn’t take long before he’d catch up at all.

“Jackson! Jackson, stop!” Lydia was still screaming, but it was far away and never going to work. So Stiles braced himself right before he was tackled to the ground and could only try to protect his face as much as possible as Jackson landed the first blow.

It wasn’t much of a punch though, as Stiles should have expected but somehow hadn’t thought about. He blamed the fact that he was being chased and now attacked by a freakin’ wolf-man though, which was a logically explanation for why his brain wasn’t as alert as it usually was.

He squeezed his eyes shut and cried out when a set of claws ripped through his sweater and skin, leaving five large gashes across his chest and a searing pain shooting through his entire body. He could barely breath through the pain and was left gasping for air on the muddy field. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and no matter how often he blinked, they wouldn’t disappear. 

 

When he opened his eyes to try and find a way to safe himself – even if it were just to gain himself some time – he noticed Lydia had reached them and was now tugging on Jackson’s blood-covered arm. Just the sight of it made it hard for Stiles not to throw up or lose consciousness. Jackson just pushed her away though and lifted up his arm to attack again.

The wounded boy looked up at the sky and wondered how he’d ever explain being dead to his father. He’d definitely never forgive his poor life choices, that was for sure.

Time seemed to go so slowly all of a sudden, and it was as if Stiles had more then enough time to look at Jackson as he started to lower his arm, his claws well on their way of ripping Stiles completely apart.

He was losing so much blood at such a short notice that he was drained of all energy and he knew it wouldn’t take long before he’d black out. At least he wouldn’t have to feel Jackson’s claws ripping the rest of his body open once he did.

 

“Jackson!” another high-pitched voice – definitely Erica’s – yelled out of nowhere, and before Stiles even realised it, Jackson was pulled off of him by two sets of supernatural strong arms.

He could only just see how Boyd held the werewolf down and Erica crouching down next to his bloody body before he let his eyes fall shut and his head lull to the side. The nothingness that welcomed him wasn’t so scary at all.

 

## ***

 

“You almost _killed_ him,” a calm, authoritive voice spoke and Stiles was barely conscious enough to realize it was Derek who had said it. To any other, it might sound like he was just stating the obvious, but Stiles knew this was the sound of the alpha being absolutely furious.

 

What Stiles was doing anywhere near Derek or how they had ever found him was a mystery to him, but his chest hurt so much that it was pretty much the only thing he could focus on.

He could tell he was lying on a cold, soft surface, however; probably a couch. Stiles eyes were refusing to open, and he tried to lay as still as possible because even every breath he took shot another wave of pain through his entire body.

“I know. I am so, so sorry, this should’ve never happened.”

It was Scott’s voice. Stiles was clueless as to why he was here as well – wherever here was supposed to be – and why he was the one being blamed while it was obviously Jackson who had did this to him. 

“And you,” Derek’s voice continued to sound infuriating as he apparently addressed someone else, “you really thought taking him to my place was a good idea? You know he doesn’t heal like we do; he needs a doctor!”

 

Stiles then realized his neck hurt from the position he was lying in, and tried as quietly and slowly as possible to shift around so that his head was resting on the armrest of the leather couch he was on.

“I didn’t know how to explain his wounds to-“

“I think he’s waking up.” It was Scott’s voice who cut Erica off, and then there was a hand on his shoulder, the touch so soft it was barely there.

Someone – probably Derek – sighed and walked over if the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer was anything to go by.

Nobody said a word then, and Stiles wondered whether he maybe had gone back to sleep again. He could still feel the excruciating pain and he still heard footsteps, so he probably – unfortunately – wasn’t.

 

The footsteps came to a halt right next to the couch, on the side where his head was and then two strong hands grabbed his shoulders after shoving Scott’s out of the way.

Relieve filled his entire being as his pain was taken from him, and for a few seconds, he was able to properly breath again. Stiles gasped as he involuntarily arched his back off off the couch which didn’t hurt him the slightest bit and he could hear his muscles pop. So apparently he had been in the same position for quite a while now.

 

The boy carefully opened his eyes once his breathing slowed down again and he had to blink against the bright lights in the room, the first thing he saw being Derek’s face above his own. Stiles thought he actually looked worried, but maybe it only seemed that way because his face was upside-down.

“What do we do now?”

It was Jackson’s voice. It was far away and so soft; Stiles had no idea whether he had actually said it or whether he had imagined it.

“He has to stay here for a little while. We cannot move him, _again_ ; not like this.”

 

Another set of hands joined Derek’s near his shoulders and Stiles saw it was Scott who was now taking some of his pain away from him. He had always thought that was one of the coolest advantages of being a werewolf, but never imagined he’d be the one benefiting from it.

“I’ll come up with an excuse for his dad,” Scott mumbled, already reaching for Stiles’ phone.

“You do realize this will take _weeks_ to heal though, and will definitely scar, right? His father will find out either way.”

It was Lydia, who was always the voice of reason. Stiles hated how right she was, but right now was too tired and in too much pain to care about the consequences of this day. He’d figure it out later, when his brain would properly work again.

“We will deal with it later. For now, he stays here.”

The alpha’s voice sounded decisive, and no one argued with him. It was enough for Stiles to close his eyes again and let himself slip back into unconsciousness.

 

He was safe, for now.


	2. It's easy to be scared of

_“Stiles!” his father yelled, sounding annoyed like he did every single time Stiles showed up at a crime scene he wasn’t supposed to be at or whenever he came home in the middle of the night despite the curfew that was supposed to keep people from getting killed._

_“What the hell is this?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking at Stiles with his eyebrows raised._

_The boy was lying with his back next to the outside lines of the lacrosse field without a sweater or a shirt on, in a pool of his own blood. On his left, there was Jackson, Erica and Boyd who were clawing and scratching and biting at his chest which was completely devoured, showing bone and even a few organs through the gashes. On his right, there was Scott and Derek who watched and did nothing but take his pain every now and then as well as Lydia who just_ screamed _as if there was no tomorrow._

_“Don’t worry about it, Sheriff,” said Scott without taking his eyes off of Stiles, “we deal with stuff like this all the time.”_

_“Besides,” Derek decided to add, his eyes narrowing in on Stiles’ face as he said it, “he will heal in no time either way.”_

_Stiles shook his head, which hurt him to the core. He had no choice though; if Derek was going to turn him into a werewolf, he was_ fucked _. He was a thinker, not a fighter and letting his instincts take over sounded absolutely_ terrifying. _Besides, he’d never manage to keep it a secret; he already had trouble keeping control over his own body as it was._

_“It’s a gift, Stiles,” Jackson spat in between bites, obviously offended by the fact that Stiles did not want to be just like him._

_“No. No, I don’t wanna,”_

_“Think about it Stiles,” Erica smiled sweetly at him, as if her face wasn’t completely covered in his blood, “you won’t survive if you don’t.”_

_“No! Please, I-“_

_Derek opened his mouth to show his elongated fangs and inched closer slowly._

_“No, don’t! Stay away from me,” Stiles started to scream. Why he hadn’t done that when he was being attacked, he wasn’t sure. But he had to do_ something _._

_The alpha got close enough that Stiles could feel his hot breath against his neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he started to whimper in fear, screaming ‘no’ over and over again._

_Derek’s fangs brushed against his skin, barely hurting him then but that’s when Stiles started to cry nevertheless. He tried to reach out for Scott, get him to safe him like he had done so many times before, but the movement_ hurt _and he just couldn’t keep it up anymore._

_“No, no, please, no!”_

_The alpha reached out to pin Stiles’ hands down to the blood-covered, muddy field, opened up his mouth further and placed it right over the spot where his neck met his shoulder._

_“No!” he yelled, but Derek was too strong. He was being held down and there was nothing he could do but-_

“Stiles!” two hands were at his shoulders, jostling him quite a bit. It didn’t hurt him like he thought it should.

“Stiles, wake up,”

The boy opened his eyes quickly, felt the traces of tears on his cheeks and he had to blink the remaining few away. He looked around frantically without realizing it was already light out and finally saw Derek sitting on the coffee table next to the couch he was on, shaking his shoulders with strong arms which were covered in jet black veins. So _that’s_ why it didn’t hurt.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbled around a sigh of relief once he had calmed down enough, letting his head fall back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was sorry for, but there was no way Derek was delighted with his company, so there was that.

 

“You had a nightmare,” the alpha pointed out in vain, his slightly concerned face already replaced by the usual broody one Stiles knew so well.

“Yeah, no shit,” Stiles said as he rolled his eyes even though he was aware that Derek couldn’t really see it from where he was.

Derek just sighed, got up and walked away from the human on the couch.

“Are you hungry?”

Stiles thought about when he had last eaten something, then realized it had to be over fifteen hours ago; at the least. And yet, he wasn’t actually hungry.

“Not really,” he admitted truthfully, and heard Derek stop walking to stare at him.

“ _You_ are not hungry?” he questioned, furrowing his brows, “are you sure?”

 It caused Stiles to grin a little, because apparently even Derek knew he had a slight obsession for everything edible. Then he confirmed to him he really wasn’t, and the alpha shrugged and said he had to eat something either way. He replied by sighing exorbitantly.

 

Less than ten minutes had gone by when Derek sat down on the coffee table near the couch Stiles was lying on again and handed him a plate with a simple ham and cheese sandwich on it. It smelled delicious, yet Stiles really didn’t want it.

“I am guessing you do not own any cereal?”

Maybe, Stiles thought, that was the reason he was always in such a mood. The guy looked like he could use some serious fruit loops every now and then.

Derek, instead of answering, fixed him a look which left Stiles little choice but to eat the sandwich reluctantly. It wasn’t half bad, but eating while lying down wasn’t very efficient and swallowing the tiny bites down hurt his chest to no extend - admittedly, pretty much everything he did hurt, but that wasn’t the point right now.

“I do actually eat cereal,” Derek muttered once Stiles had managed to finish his meal, sounding as if he hated to admit it, “but you already ruined my couch by bleeding out on it and I do not need any milk in the mix as well.”

“I don’t get how that’s my fault since I was trying really hard not to die, you know,” Stiles defended himself quickly. In fact, he hadn’t really had a say in anything that happened to him the last few months, and it was rather frustrating.

“I know,” Derek said quietly and without meeting Stiles eyes, “I also know that – for the first time ever – you are the only one who is _not_ to blame for this entire situation.”  
Stiles grinned proudly at that, but instead of returning the smile, Derek just scowled at no one in particular.

 

“How did I end up here?” Stiles was too curious not to ask as Derek started cleaning the kitchen up. The boy wondered what he usually did with all his free time and eventually came to the decision that he had to be doing work outs like ninety percent of the time.

“Erica and Boyd brought you here. It’s not like anyone could explain your injuries to anyone without it resulting into people finding out about us and Jackson being locked up by your father.”

Stiles looked down at his own body for as far as that was possible, at the neatly stitched up wounds across his still nude chest. They looked like they were done by someone who knew exactly what they had been doing.

Even as the wounds were cleaned, they looked nasty and just looking at it made Stiles a little nauseous. You’d say he would have gotten used to all the blood and sliced skin by now. He wasn’t.

As if Derek was able to read his thoughts, – or maybe he just smelled his confusion and curiosity – he explained how Scott and Allison had been called and the hunter had stitched him up.

“Scott will bring painkillers later today. He told his mum what happened.”

 

Stiles tried not to think about how Derek had said more words to him in the last few hours than he had in the months that they had known each other. The alpha didn’t seem too pleased to be baby-sitting a wounded human though, so maybe not that much had really changed. However, Stiles tried to relish in it as much as possible.

“Okay, so,” Stiles started to say, wanting to ask when he was allowed to go home, as he tried to sit up a little. His back was starting to hurt from the couch, despite it being pretty comfortable, but the pain shooting through him at the movement made it entirely impossible.

He quickly lay back down and tried to heave in shallow breathes through the pain.

“Don’t move,” Derek snarled at him, but rushed over to take some of the it away nevertheless.

“You’re stuck on this couch. Deal with it.”

 

## ***

 

“Dude, you have no idea how happy I am to see you alive and breathing,” Scott exclaimed the second Derek let him into his loft and rushed over so that he was right next to his best friend, touching him to take some pain even though Derek had only just done that.

“Yeah, well, barely,” Stiles muttered in annoyance. He wished he could just go back to being unconscious because having only Derek for company wasn’t the most pleasant thing in the world, really. Once the alpha had explained a bit of the situation, they had barely exchanged two full sentences and every time Stiles tried to have a conversation, he was cut off by Derek telling him he needed to rest.

The guy shot him a look from the other side of the apartment like he knew exactly what Stiles was getting at, but Scott just furrowed his brows in worry and played with the strings on his hoodie awkwardly.

“Listen, Stiles,” he started, looking anywhere but at the wounded boy, “I am so sorry for what happened. I should have never left you alone with Jackson and Lydia; it was stupid to think you’d be safe that way.”

Stiles shrugged lazily, then scrunched up his face and held his breath. He kept forgetting he wasn’t supposed to move any part of his body except for his face. Some sticky kanima liquid would’ve come in handy, this time around.

“It’s okay. I agreed, remember?” he said in a voice that was nowhere near high-pitched and girly; definitely not.

“Yeah, but I should have known better and-“

“Shut up,” Stiles told him harshly, “just give me the damn pills.”

Scott got him a glass of water and the amount of medication Lydia had said he could have, then lifted his head up with a hand on the back of neck so that he could drink. It wasn’t as awkward as when Derek had done that. In fact, Stiles had been thirsty for hours but letting the alpha helping him drink was certainly worse.

 

“Mum said she wanted to come check up on you to see if there was anything she could do to make it heal quicker, but I might have lied about the size of the wounds a little,” Scott told him sheepishly.

“Great. So not only have I been attacked by my wolf-classmate, I am also stripped of my rights as an American citizen to get treated at an actual hospital by an actual doctor.”

His best friend looked at him with those big, guilty eyes which was a look Stiles detested on him. No friend of Stiles should ever have to look at him like that.

“I get it, dude. I am just cranky because I have been lying lifeless on a couch for twenty-four hours with no one to talk to.”

From a distance, Derek growled at him lowly. Stiles looked at him and made sure he saw him rolling his eyes, which resulted in a happy snort from Scott.

 

“What’d you tell my dad?” Stiles asked, faking disinterest as he looked up at the ceiling and folded his hands over his stomach, making sure to avoid the wounds as he twiddled his thumbs nervously. He hated lying to his dad and he hated leaving him on his own for too long. He really didn’t have a choice now though, again.

“I said you’re staying at my place for the weekend. We’ll probably need to come up with another lie by Monday.”

“He will find out I am not in school though,” Stiles sighed. He usually was pretty good at this stuff, but he had no idea how to get out of this one.

“We’re screwed, dude.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Scott reassured him, “my mum can probably help.”

Stiles nodded at that, though he had little trust it would all be alright.

 

“Do you wanna watch Netflix?” Scott offered after a few moments of silence.

Stiles rolled his head so he was able to shoot his friend a look that said something the lines of ‘ _you’ve got to be kidding me’_. If Stiles were able to watch series, he would’ve.

“I can…” Scott started, already shuffling around, lying down next to Stiles (which probably wasn’t very comfortable since there was barely any space left for him) and holding his phone up above their heads so they could both see the screen.

He opened the Netflix app, went to his continued watching list and decided it was time they’d finally continue watching ‘How to get away with murder’. There hadn’t really been much time for that with all the supernatural adventures going on around them.

 

Derek huffed out a breath at their choice of series, but sat down to listen along anyway.

 

## ***

 

Stiles had fallen asleep halfway through the third episode they had watched that afternoon. Who would have known lying around literally all day could be this tiring?

 

When he woke up, it was dark outside again, Scott was long gone and Derek was still in the chair near his feet, reading a book. It baffled Stiles how extremely mundane he looked when he wasn’t throwing people around or flashing his claws and fangs at other supernatural creatures.

Except for the bulking muscles, maybe, but there surely were humans who were just as ripped as the alpha was; there just had to be.

Stiles doubted any of them would look half as good as he did however, with his sharp jawline covered in sexy stubble, pretty cheekbones below bright eyes and jet black hair, but that wasn’t the point he was trying to make right now.

 

Derek looked relaxed and well rested as he sat with one leg lazily thrown over the other, taking up even more space than he usually did in the process, and his book in his lap like nothing mattered but the story he was currently reading.

Stiles swore he could see the tiniest of smiles appearing on his face as he read, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared and Stiles wondered if he had even seen it in the first place. Which was a shame, because in all honesty, Derek’s smile was one to die for. Quite literally.

Stiles barely ever got to see it - since Derek usually reserved it for when he needed something from someone or to manipulate poor, defenceless humans - but whenever he did, he seized the moment, really. The guy’s teeth were perfect and so white, it was hard to believe he used them to actually bite people.

 

Stiles hated how impressed he continued to be by the alpha, even though he knew very well he was actually a huge asshole who never told them anything that mattered and disappeared without a word all the time on the inside. He was also an douche for letting Peter stay with him, even after everything the psychopath had done; especially to Lydia. 

Stiles swore he hated Derek, because he was nothing but a bitch whenever Stiles was around and apparently had no idea what the word happiness even meant, yet he was pretty enough Stiles would definitely lick his abs given the opportunity. Or maybe his ass.

Or both; both seemed good.

 

Derek suddenly took in a deep breath through his nose and looked up at Stiles with a slightly bewildered look on his face. Stiles just blinked at him twice and then closed his eyes again, hoping he could just go back to sleep again instead of dealing with his thoughts about the alpha.

He had been nothing but psychically attracted to the guy since day one and being this close to him for so long was so not going to change that.

 

## ***

 

Stiles had almost managed to fall back asleep when the large, metal door was pulled open and someone stepped into the loft. The boy kept his eyes closed, - pretending he was actually asleep even though Derek would know he wasn’t - so he didn’t see the visitor, but he could hear them sniffing either way. So it had to be one of the beta’s then.

“Jesus, why does it reek of Stiles in here?” a voice which definitely belonged to Peter asked, pronouncing Stiles’ name as if it were the most disgusting thing he’d ever come across. Great.

“Did you two finally-“

“Jackson almost killed him,” Derek cut his uncle’s sentence off quickly. He sounded calm as ever, yet it left Stiles wondering what Peter was about to say that wasn’t supposed to be finished.

 

Two sets of footsteps approached and Stiles could hear Peter make a bit of a pained noise and he figured it was because of the sight of his stitched up chest. He hadn’t seen it all that well himself yet, but he didn’t have to to know it looked pretty bad.

“What did he do?” Peter wanted to know as Derek sat down in the same chair as before with a sigh.

“It wasn’t his fault,” the alpha started to say, which caused his uncle to snort.

“You don’t have to defend your –“

“Scott thought it’d be a good idea to let Stiles teach Jackson control, like he had done to him when you bit him and left him on his own,” Derek said accusingly, once again cutting Peter off successfully.

“He had you,” the eldest argued. It sounded as if he was further away then he was before, somewhere near the kitchen probably.

“Jackson lost control and Erica and Boyd weren’t there quick enough to prevent _that_ from happening. They dragged his body here because they were too scared to call an ambulance…” Derek started to explain, ignoring his uncle’s comment altogether.

“You seriously don’t want to see his jeep; the backseat is completely soaked with his own blood.”

Derek all but growled the last sentence, but all Stiles could focus on was the mention of his beloved jeep. He was never going to get the bloodstains out of it, and Stiles wondered if he could make Jackson pay for it since his dad was rich as hell anyways.

“So now we are playing hospital in here?”

Peter approached them again and sat down on the other side of Stiles, near his head. He was pretty sure they were both well aware he was awake by now, but nobody acknowledged it.

“It’s not like I can send him home, can I?” Derek replied, his voice filled with annoyance. Whether it was directed at him or Peter, Stiles wasn’t sure.

“He is in so much pain, he can’t even sit up on his own. I’ve been force-feeding him and helping him drink all day.”

Both of the wolves were silent for a little while and Stiles would give everything to know what was going on in their heads right now.

 

“So how does he go to-“

“You don’t want to know,” Stiles said resolutely from where he was lying on the couch, his eyes still closed. He was too embarrassed to look either one in the eyes right now.

It had only happened a few times so far, but having Derek help him off of the couch while simultaneously taking his pain so he could take a bathroom-break was something he’d very much like to erase from his memories.

He then realised alphas actually could take memories and then wondered if Derek would do that for him, if he asked nice enough.

Peter had the audacity to actually laugh out loud at that and when Stiles finally looked at him, found him smirking at him wickedly.

When Stiles looked at Derek next, he noticed he was looking at the floor with the slightest bit of pink on his cheeks, looking more uncomfortable than he had when he had actually kept Stiles upright so he could pee.

 

A moment of awkward silence passed and Stiles figured this would be a good time to change the subject. So he looked around the room helplessly while trying to come up with something that was at least a little useful to say. But before he even had the chance to open up his mouth and say whatever his poor brain-to-mouth filter would allow him to say, Derek asked him if he was still in pain.

“It’s okay,” he replied, not sure whether he should even believe it himself. He barely felt it as long as he lay perfectly still and even though every single movement hurt like hell, he was at least able to keep breathing through it all. Derek got up from his chair with an unreadable look on his face as soon as the words had left his mouth, walked up to the couch until he was within Stiles’ reach and then laid his hands on his shoulders again to take most of his pain away. Even though it wasn’t as necessary as it was before Scott had brought him his painkillers, it still felt like a huge burden was being lifted off of his shoulders.

“How often have you done that already, Derek?” Peter asked knowingly as he watched it happen, but Derek refused to answer him.  He also continued refusing to look at Stiles’ face.

“You know how dangerous it is if you do it too many times; you cannot keep taking his pain from him.”

 

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize it would've been hilarious to describe Derek helping Stiles to the toilet but I do not deal with awkwardness that well and I suck at writing it sooo. I hope this is okay...


	3. With you I am prepared for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many pack-dynamics feels, honestly!
> 
> Also, Derek can be such a sweety-pie when he wants to be, and still pretend like he totally isn't :))

_“What? What are you doing?” Stiles asked. Derek was still fisting his shirt tightly, pulling him over the ice-cold table that was supposed to be used for pets. The alpha looked pale, almost ghost-like and he could barely manage to keep his eyes open. There was sweat dripping down his forehead and Stiles wondered how much longer he’d manage to stay conscious. If he’d black out, Stiles would definitely leave him for dead because there was no way he could call an ambulance now and explain to his dad why he was with a guy who had a smoking bullet sticking out of his arm._

_Derek doubled over even further without releasing Stiles and made a disgusting retching sound as he threw up what looked like black oil._

_Stiles pulled a face as he winced, “Holy god, what the hell is that?”_

_He was new to all of this supernatural bullshit and was_ not _ready to see something like that coming out of another person’s body._

_“I-it’s my body,” Derek heaved, pulling himself up again by Stiles’ shirt, looking like he was to collapse any second now, “it’s trying to heal itself.”_

_The smell coming off of the black goo on the ground made Stiles nauseous himself, as did the gaping wound on Derek’s arm. Nothing about this situation was like anything he had imagined when he had first found out about werewolves being real._

_“Well, it’s not doing a very good job at it,” he stated and Derek shot him a murderous look. Stiles wasn’t sure whether he would mind being killed by Derek right now, if it meant he didn’t have to chop his freakin’ arm off anymore._

_“Now,” Derek said, letting his head fall on the metal table with a thud, “you gotta do it now.”_

_It was obvious the guy was in a hell lot of pain and completely drained from all energy. It still didn’t make Stiles wanna cut his limbs off however._

_“Look, honestly, I don’t think I can-“_

_“Just do it!” Derek screamed at him in his werewolf voice, which still managed to scare the shit out of Stiles._

_“O-okay,” he babbled, grabbing the rotating knife and keeping it against Derek’s arm._

_“Okay,” he said again and laid his finger on the button which would turn it on._

_He closed his eyes as he said “oh god, okay, here we go,” then turned it on and pushed his way through skin, flesh and bone._

_Derek growled in agony, his eyes flashing bright yellow and his fangs elongating. The noise was so loud it hurt Stiles ear but it was already too late; Derek’s arm had fallen onto the metal table he was leaning on and into the puddle of blood that was on top of it. Stiles barely managed to turn around before he emptied his stomach at the sight of it while Derek continued to groan._

_“Stiles?”_

_It was Scott’s voice and within seconds he was in the room and watching the other wolf writhing on the ground while his arm was still up on the table._

_Stiles watched as his best friend’s eyes grew wide before flashing yellow as they settled on him._

_“How could you do that to him,” he growled at the boy still holding the knife as he wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. He’d worry about washing that and Derek’s blood off it later._

_“He asked me to,” Stiles said as he held up his hands in self-defence, “he’d die if I-“_

_But the boy couldn’t even finish his sentence before Scott attacked him, throwing him to the ground somewhere in between his own puke and the black goo that once belonged to Derek. He showed off his claws from where he raised his hand high into the air and brought it down without any mercy._

_He clawed his way through Stiles’ chest who kept screaming for Derek’s help. The beta, however, was lying on the floor and watching them with little interest._

_“Derek, please, just tell him you asked me to,” he yelled, begged, as Scott started scratching at his shoulders and upper arms._

_“Derek,” he tried again when he saw his best friend looking at him with a foreign fury in his eyes, aiming at his neck to slice it open and leave him for dead._

_“Derek, please!”_

_“Stiles, I’m right here,” a voice spoke to him as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked away from Scott to see Derek reaching out for him and talk to him as if he were trying to comfort him but it didn’t make sense._

_“Derek,” he repeated unintelligibly, as if it were the only word he remembered how to say. He figured he couldn’t really be blamed for that though, seeing as he was mere seconds away from death._

“Stiles, wake the hell up!” a loud voice roared right next to his ear, causing him to jolt awake. The movement hurt to no extend and Stiles realized the pills must’ve worn off by now.

He looked around and found Peter right next to him and Derek standing near the armrest his head was on, looking down at him with a face that could either mean he was annoyed or worried. Seriously, Stiles had no idea anymore.

“Next time you dream about my nephew, keep it to your-fucking-self,” Peter snarled, then turned and climbed the stairs to go back to bed, leaving Derek and Stiles behind.

“It’s three in the fucking morning,” Stiles could hear him mutter right before he disappeared from sight completely.

 

Derek sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest wordlessly, looking down at Stiles with one eyebrow raised high while he apparently waited for an explanation.

“I had to cut off your arm and Scott was about to kill me for it,” was the only information Stiles was willing to give the guy. He raised both of his eyebrows at him then, obviously unimpressed with the nightmare. He stayed right with him nonetheless.

“So, is this going to happen every night?”

Stiles opened his mouth to reply that, _yes_ , this was probably going to happen every night, seeing as he already had nightmares at least once a week ever since Scott was bitten and they found half a body in the woods. And now he was attacked – and probably traumatized – himself, which probably meant he’d have nightmares every single night for the rest of his life. Honestly, Stiles had more reason to be mad about it than Derek had.

“Every night?” he asked instead, “how long do you think I am going to stay here?”

“You can’t go home looking like that, and you know it,” Derek spat right back, nodding towards his chest. Derek still hadn’t allowed him to put a shirt on, afraid the fabric would stick to it and tear the wounds open again or whatever stupid reason he had for leaving Stiles lying around half naked.

 

The aching from the sudden movement he had just made was turning into a burning sensation which wasn’t much better really, and he wished the wolves had just let him sleep, for fuck’s sake.

Derek rolled his eyes and reached for Stiles shoulders, but he slapped his hands away.

“No, Peter said you-“ he gritted through the ache of raising his arm and slapping at the wolf’s hand, but Derek just tried again and took the self-inflicted pain right away.

“Could you be any more stubborn?” Stiles complained, definitely not sounding like a stubborn five-year-old himself, “I’m _fine._ ”

“Just give me my pills and I’ll promise to try and not scream for someone to safe me from a very, _very_ painful death, okay?”

“You’d better. Peter might actually kill you if you wake him again,” Derek smirked wickedly before walking over to the kitchen where he got the medicine and a glass of water.

 

The man crouched down next to Stiles, handed him the pills and once the boy had placed them on his tongue, used his right hand to lift Stiles’ head up a little and steered the glass of water towards his mouth. The grip he had on Stiles’ neck was warm and gentle and it still surprised the boy Derek was even capable of taking care of someone the way he did.

Stiles had sort of expected him to just leave the loft until his patient would be able to walk out on his own, but he hadn’t actually left his side from the moment he woke up the first time. It made him feel safe which is something he hadn’t felt in a _long_ time.

 

“I will tell Scott to bring something to help you sleep tomorrow,” Derek stated once he was up on his feet again, carrying the glass back to the kitchen.

“No, really, I-“

“You need to rest, Stiles,” Derek argued right back, “you will heal much faster if you do.”

“But I-“

“No,” he snapped, looking at Stiles intently. His expression didn’t soften at all as he told him to “get some rest”.

 

## ***

 

“You’re sitting up!” Allison cheered the moment she set foot into the loft when Sunday morning was coming to an end. She made it sound as if it were some huge accomplishment and Stiles really didn’t need her to make him feel even more incompetent than he already did.

Having to be force-fed by a werewolf and mocked for it by another was bad enough as it was already.

“Yes, thank you for noticing,” Stiles replied sarcastically, “but actually I have been put in this exact position over two hours ago and haven’t been able to move ever since.”

Scott chuckled a little at his confession as he sat down on the couch and placed Stiles’ laptop, which he had promised to get, on the coffee table in front of him.

“At least you can finally watch Netflix on your own now,” he tried enthusiastically. Stiles refused to smile at it.

Allison sat down in between the two boys and eyed Stiles’ chest suspiciously.

“It looks better than it did before,” she pondered, and then asked him if it hurt any less yet.

“I am not sure whether it hurts less or the pills Scott brought are just really strong.”

He finally managed not to shrug with practically every sentence anymore which shouldn’t be something to be proud of but was either way.

 

The door slid open again and Isaac casually walked in. He grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and sat down next to Scott on the couch, acting like he freakin’ owned the place.

“What are we watching?” he asked as he pointed at the laptop which wasn’t even turned on yet.

“Oh, it’s the newest Avengers, only they’re going through a tunnel right now so that’s why you can’t actually see anything,” Stiles couldn’t help to reply. Sarcasm really was his only defence, it seemed. He was glad he could still pull it off.

Scott chuckled from where he was seated next to Allison, so at least he had managed to make one person laugh today.

 

“What are you doing here, Isaac?” Allison asked with a confused little smile on her face while Stiles grabbed the laptop to turn it on and search for a movie to watch.

The boy just shrugged and answered that when he found Scott wasn’t home when he woke up, he had decided to just hang out at his alpha’s place. Stiles wondered how often the betas actually visited Derek, since he wasn’t exactly the cosiest person to be around.

 

“I am _not_ watching another sci-fi movie,” Erica announced when she had only pulled the door halfway open, Boyd right behind her. She pulled him in by their joined hands and fell down on the couch right next to Stiles.

The wounded boy was pretty sure there wasn’t actually room for six people on this couch, but they managed either way.

He just hoped Jackson and Lydia wouldn’t decide to stop by as well, because then they’d surely have a problem.

“So, who said it was visiting hour?” Stiles wanted to know when the rest started to argue about what movie to watch, and they all stopped to look at him with all kinds of emotions on their faces. Boyd was the only one who didn’t really show any emotion at all, but that was to be expected, while Erica just smirked at him like she always did. Stiles liked to think it was because he figured them out much quicker than she might have expected.

Scott actually looked like a deer caught in the headlights while Allison and Isaac both chuckled at Stiles, Allison shaking her head a little.

“We just figured you could use some company,” Scott shrugged.

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Erica started, looking around the room and tipping her head to the side a little, probably to listen to something in particular, “where are our two favourite sourwolves anyways?”

Stiles glowered at her in a way he probably couldn’t pull off like Derek could for using _his_ nickname for the alpha before telling them Derek was out for groceries and Peter was off doing god knows what.

“And honestly, I don’t think they’re going to be happy to find out you guys have turned their place into a supernatural cinema, but whatever.”

“I think they’ll be more than happy to know they don’t actually have to babysit your sorry ass for an hour or three,” Isaac shrugged carelessly. Stiles wondered if he really didn’t worry about his alpha’s reaction at all once he’d get back, like he made it seem. It were moments like these he despised not being able to listen to people’s heartbeats like the wolves all were.

 

“Seriously, what’s with the babysitting?” Stiles questioned. He kind of was about to flail his arms around like he was used to do, but his hands were barely lifted off of his lap when he already groaned in pain.

Both Erica and Scott reached out to touch him and take his pain, and eventually it was Erica who got to do the honours.

“This really is the only reason I am still hanging out with you guys,” he told them humourlessly. When he looked at the girl on his right, he could tell she knew perfectly well he was actually really fucking grateful for them and how they took care of him in his time of need.

“And maybe because I cannot get up from the couch as well,” he added as an afterthought, causing his friends to laugh at him. He tried not to think about when exactly he had started seeing all the wolves as his friends, just rolled with it.

“You love us,” Erica sing-sang sweetly, then took the laptop from him to pick a movie herself.

 

“But really guys, the babysitting?” Stiles questioned before they had the chance to start bickering about the genre of the movie again. Isaac got up to get them all drinks and snacks in the meantime and Boyd wordlessly followed him to help him out.

“You can’t eat, drink or pee without the guy,” Scott pointed out with a serious look on his face, only the tiniest hint of amusement visible in his dark eyes.

“Oh my god,” Stiles muttered in disbelieve as his face turned bright red before the rest had even realized what that sentence actually meant. He couldn’t believe his best friend would actually betray him like that as the others were practically rolling around the floor from how hard they were laughing at him.

“He has to help you go to the bathroom?” Erica cackled loudly, clutching at her belly as she couldn’t stop laughing, “can you please film it for future purposes, please?”

Stiles didn’t reply, but simple turned to Scott, fixed him his _best ‘I-am-so-disappointed-in-you-right-now’_ face and pulled the laptop back from where it was threatening to fall off of Erica’s shaking lap.

 

## ***

 

They were barely thirty minutes into their movie when Jackson and Lydia actually did join them, pushing the two chairs around so they could see the laptop screen as well. It wasn’t ideal, but it was definitely good enough. Jackson had made eye-contact with Stiles when he had walked in and Stiles had nodded at him once, causing the older boy to crack the tiniest of smiles and nod back - it was a better apology Stiles could’ve ever asked for, considering it was _Jackson_. Especially considering the former Kanima hadn’t actually known what he had been doing when he almost killed his classmate to begin with.

 

Erica and Allison had paired up when choosing a movie, both succeeding to convince their boyfriends to vote for ‘how to lose a guy in ten days’ as well so that they had the upper hand. Lydia was absolutely stoked when she recognized the movie and Jackson had looked like he would rather jump from a twenty-story building than watch the Romcom.

“I’ve literally seen this movie four times already, in the past _two years_ ,” he had complained, but no one had paid him any attention.

Stiles hated to admit it, but he actually quite liked the plot and, well, the actors could’ve been a lot less attractive.

 

When Peter came home about half an hour later, he just stared at the group of teenagers, – and Stiles who waved at him and greeted ‘uncle Peter’ enthusiastically – rolled his eyes with a soft groan and quickly climbed the stairs to retract to his bedroom.

Derek, who came home not even five minutes later, was less accepting about the amount of people in his loft.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, looking around his living room at the group of teenagers who were all curled up on the couch and his two chairs together. Erica had her legs pulled up beneath herself, her toes wiggling underneath Stiles thighs and her head resting on top of her boyfriend’s shoulder. Allison was in pretty much the same position, although the hand she had thrown over Scott’s shoulders was combing through Isaac’s messy curls. Stiles was the only one who was still sitting upright as if there were invisible books balancing on top of his head, but that was mainly because it was the only position that allowed him to breath properly.

Erica and Scott both were close enough to reach out and take some of his pain if needed, which allowed him to at least reach for the popcorn and stuff his face every now and then.

“Don’t look at me; they all showed up on their own,” Stiles said as he raised his hands defensively. He forced himself to contain his face, to not show any signs of weakness but the way Derek’s eyes flickered down to his chest and back up told him he knew perfectly well he was still in a lot of pain.

“Okay. Well, if you’re expecting me to provide lunch then just… don’t.”

Erica snickered at that, but looked away guiltily when her alpha fixed her a stern look and Stiles really didn’t understand why the guy had to treat his betas like that.

 

Derek went to put his groceries away while the group of high-schoolers turned their attention back to the screen of Stiles’ laptop.

Once he was finished, the wounded boy kind of expected him to either kick everyone out or to go to his room like Peter had done. Instead, he grabbed a chair from the dinner table and placed it so he was sitting right behind Stiles.

“I’ve already seen this one,” he grumbled in annoyance, and Stiles huffed out a surprise laugh at the revelation. He couldn’t really imagine Derek voluntarily watching a Romcom like this one.

Every now and then the alpha leaned half over Stiles to be able to grab a handful of popcorn and the boy figured he was slowly going insane for imagining to hear Derek take in a deep breath every time his face was only inches away from Stiles’.

 

## ***

 

Stiles could pretty much feel Derek’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head when he yawned for the umpteenth time since he had gotten home. The second movie – a sci-fi one, which was a compromise for the first movie – was almost coming to an end but Stiles couldn’t pay attention to it even if his life depended on it. He was finally leaning against the back of the couch instead of sitting up right, thanks to the extra dose of medication they had given him after Scott made Lydia  double-check if it was actually safe.

 

“Guys, it’s time to go,” Derek said out of nowhere, but resolutely nonetheless. He already got up and reached for the laptop to pause the movie when everybody started to protest, but it didn’t bother him all that much.

“There’s only fifteen minutes left, why can’t we just finish it?” Isaac sputtered, sending the alpha his most disappointed look. He should’ve known Derek didn’t really care much for those though.

“Because you’ve been here long enough already and I want my home back.”

Derek’s eyes flickered at Stiles as he pulled a – probably very unattractive – face to stifle yet another yawn. 

 

Peter, who had come down once the Romcom had come to an end, watched it all happen with that small, evil smile of his. It was like he always knew exactly what was going on and like whatever was happening was all according to his grand plan and Stiles hated it with all of his being. This time, he was too tired to call him out on it though. So - like Peter - Stiles just watched as Derek kicked all of his betas and the two human girlfriends out of his loft.

At first there was a lot of complaining but when he used his alpha-voice, they all obeyed and left as quickly as possible. Stiles waved after them before realizing they were already out of his line of sight and then dropped his hand uselessly. The combination of medication and fatigue made it hard to think straight, and he couldn’t wait to finally lay down and close his eyes to get some much needed sleep.

 

“You’re getting sloppy, Derek,” Peter accused him when Derek moved the two chairs back to their original positions in the living room. His voice sounded far away to Stiles, but he tried to listen in on their conversation nonetheless.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek claimed as he started collected the dirty glasses and snack bowls next.

“Kicking the pups out right before the end of a movie just because poor Stiles is getting a little drowsy? Really?” Peter replied innocently, and Stiles didn’t fully understand. He was fighting to keep his eyes open and to keep his head from lulling to the side uncontrollably since that would definitely hurt like hell.

“I’ve put up with them for almost four hours; I am allowed to reclaim my own house,” Derek argued, sounding as irritated as ever.

“Sure you are,” Peter smirked wickedly as he watched Derek clean up all on his own.

 

“Derek,” Stiles slurred, sounding just as sleep-drunk as he felt. His eyes were closed by now and he refused to even try and open them again.

“What?” Derek asked, but it didn’t come out as harsh as Stiles was used to by now. Or maybe he was just imagining that as well; he really wasn’t sure anymore.

“Can you please…” he started, mentioning at the empty space on the couch beside him where his head had been lying before he had been set in his current position.

“I really need…” but before he could even finish telling Derek what he wanted from him, the man was next to him, telling him to ‘drink this first’.

“What’s that?” he asked as he managed to open his eyes half, eyeing the little plastic cup suspiciously.

“Something to help you sleep,” Derek explained, bringing the cup even closer to Stiles’ face.

“I’m not sure if you’ve looked at me yet but I don’t think I really need help sleeping right now,” he argued tiredly, which caused both Hales to sigh audibly. It reminded Stiles of his dad whenever they were in an argument; Stiles liked to call it his _‘what did I do to deserve a son this stupid and stubborn’_ sigh.

“It’s so you’ll sleep without screaming bloody murder every five minutes,” Peter explained impatiently. It wasn’t night time yet so he wouldn’t keep the wolves up exactly, but Stiles did actually understand they wanted some peace and quiet after the events of the last few hours.

Besides: he could use a nice, dreamless nap for a change.

 

He reached out to grab the cup from Derek gingerly but the man just brought it to his lips instead and helped him drink it like he had the last day and a half. Then he put the cup aside and braced one gentle hand on the back of Stiles neck and placed the other on his shoulder as he carefully lowered him so Stiles way lying on his back again.

His head had barely even touched the armrest when his eyes fell shut and his breathing evened out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this makes no sense, but writing Peter is the. absolute. best.  
> He's such an ass, I love him.


	4. What has yet to come

Waking up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Derek puttering about the loft felt like such a blessing after all those nights of waking up in cold sweat and with hands on his body trying to get him to wake up and to stop yelling.

Stiles felt so much better than he had the day before and even though it still had him holding his breath and groaning a little, he was actually able to sit up by himself. The skin around the wounds on his chest felt tight and his muscles weren’t really used to doing much after days of just lying around but it didn’t stop him from being relieved to finally start feeling like himself again.

Derek looked up at the sounds coming from his guest, but didn’t run up to him to take his pain anymore which felt like a small victory to Stiles as well.

 

“Morning,” he offered once Stiles eyes were fully open and looking right at him, the tiniest of smiles around his lips.

“Is it?” Stiles asked, looking around at the way too bright light coming from the huge glass wall behind him.

“No,” was all Derek answered him, sounding amused. Stiles tried not to pay it any attention.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Stiles answered him within a heartbeat and it felt nice to know Derek wouldn’t know he was lying because for the first time, he didn’t actually have to.

“Good.”

 

Stiles carefully shifted around so he was leaning against the back of the couch and reached for his laptop. Then a thought popped into his head and he looked at Derek, who walked up to him with a bowl and a spoon.

Stiles frowned at him in confusion, but it didn’t stop him from asking how they had explained his absence to his dad.

“Scott took care of it. His mum called your dad and came up with some lie as to why you weren’t at home or at school.”

 

Stiles nodded, although he still was curious to find out what exactly it was she had told his father. He really didn’t need his dad to worry about him with everything that was going on at work and all. But Stiles figured his best friend would probably visit him right after school to fill him in on what he had missed and to bring him some books so that he could do some homework, so he could ask Scott then. Stiles really hoped he could go home and back to school soon though, because despite quite enjoying this lazy life, he was starting to grow a little restless.

 

Derek wordlessly handed Stiles the bowl and spoon then, and he was surprised to see it was actually a bowl of coco pops. The human looked up at Derek with a huge grin on his face but the man just raised his eyebrows at him. Stiles figured it was his way of saying: “ _if you spill any of that I am ripping the stitches out of your chest so that you can slowly bleed to death”._

“You seriously just made me the happiest near-death-experienced person _ever_ ,” he mused happily as he dug in and took the largest bite he could muster. He didn’t miss the actual, full-blown smile that followed his statement and couldn’t help but grin right back.

 

“So, what are you up to today?” Stiles wondered out loud once his breakfast was devoured, “do you have any cool alpha-business to take care of, or do you just lurk around school grounds to keep your pups out of trouble all day?

Derek shot him an unimpressed look and told him he was actually planning on going to Deaton for a bit to ask him if there was any chance Jackson’s past as a Kanima would influence his developments as a wolf. Stiles was impressed by the alpha for even thinking of that, since he hadn’t given Jackson’s past a single thought himself.

“Can I come?”

The alpha raised his eyebrows at him in surprise, but then shook his head.

“You need to heal,” he said in a voice that made it obvious there was no use in arguing.

“Right. So you’re leaving me alone with Peter then?”

“Peter’s out,” Derek answered him in a heartbeat.

“Doing what?”

“None of your business,” the elder faked a sweet smile at him, then got up to leave.

 

“Call me if you need anything,” Derek told him before leaving. And as an afterthought promised that if he called for any useless crap, he’d be in deep trouble. Stiles just grinned at him and waved, already reaching for his laptop again to do some research of his own.

 

## ***

 

As expected, the internet did not provide much information about Kanima’s turning into werewolf’s instead of dying when impaled by claws. It did keep Stiles occupied for a while though and it made him feel like he was at least a little useful to the pack.

He watched a few episodes of a new action show that had just been posted on Netflix before deciding it wasn’t all that interesting, and then he got bored.  

 

He slowly pushed himself off of the couch and took a few tentative steps around the living room, looking around curiously. He had been at Derek’s apartment a few times before, but never gotten the change to actually look and now that he had the time and no one to stop him, he wanted to get to know every nook and cranny.

Every step he took was still uncomfortable but as long as he moved gently enough, it was actually manageable. It was not like he had anything better to do anyways.

 

Stiles stopped at the wall near the spiral staircase where few pictures were hanging and Stiles realized every single person in those photos were dead. Except for Peter and Derek himself, obviously, who were in one family photo as well.

He looked at Derek’s smiling face as he was leaning down to wrap his arms around a young girl, who looked a lot like him. She had the same black hair, hazel-colour eyes and shiny teeth and Stiles wondered whether she could have been a little sister or a niece.

Laura, who Stiles recognized from that one time he had seen half of her dead body, was in the picture as well, smiling so bright it looked as if her face was about to crack at any given moment. Right next to her was Peter and it was so hard to imagine he had been the one to kill her. A shiver run down Stiles’ spine and he groaned at the pain it left him with.

 

The boy then moved on to another picture.

It showed a boy who was carefully holding on to a baby while a thirty-something old man was watching both of them closely. Stiles dared to bet it was Derek holding Cora, if the stories he had heard about the family were anything to go by. The man had to be Derek’s dad. Stiles wondered what his life had been like, with him being a human dad to multiple werewolf kids and all. He guessed the man should have seen it coming though, the moment he decided to marry a freakin’ alpha-wolf.

That exact thought was what made Stiles wonder whether bitten-wolves would pass the genes on like born-wolves seemed to do. Because if it meant Scott was going to have tiny werewolf babies one day, he so was _not_ going to be their godfather. Stiles had dealt with his fair share of werewolves to last a lifetime, _thank you very much._

 

He was just about to wonder what toddler Derek must have been like; whether he had always been as mysterious and moody as he was right now or if all of that was caused by his entire family being killed by his ex, when there was a knock on the door. Stiles looked at the door as if he’d somehow manage to look right through it.

When whoever was on the other side of it knocked on the metal door again – louder this time – Stiles asked who it was, since pretty much every pack-member seemed to have no problem letting themselves in whether the door was locked or not.

 

No answer came however and when Stiles still refused to open the door, the knocking turned into straight up pounding. It sounded aggressive and impatient and the boy didn’t need to see it to know the stranger was using both fists to make as much noise as possible.

He took a deep, shaky breath and hoped to god the door was actually capable of keeping supernatural creatures out; there was no way this kind of noise was produced by a human. Stiles wondered whether this was a good time to call Derek, but he didn’t want the alpha to come here only to find out poor, little, defenceless Stiles was totally overreacting so he decided to wait just a little longer. And, just to be safe, he went to search for something to defend himself with. A bat obviously was out of question seeing as he was at a werewolf residence, but once in the kitchen he found a large and pretty heavy frying pan and figured it would have to do. He gripped it with both hands when the pounding grew impossibly louder and was now alternated by scratching.

 

Stiles’ heart started to race the moment he could hear someone growl lowly mere feet away from him. This definitely did remind him of certain dreams he had had ever since he was locked up in the alpha’s loft which did _not_  end happily-ever-after.

He then decided he did no longer trust the heavy metal door and searched Derek’s name among the contact-list in his phone; which was a lot harder than it should have been thanks to his trembling hands.

He raised the device to his ear and hoped Derek would be able to hear the growling and scratching and pounding because he didn’t need the alpha to think he was making this up.

 

“Stiles,” Derek all but sighed through the phone after it had only rung twice, and Stiles breathed out a sigh of relieve at the sound of his low, calm voice.

“Derek, you need to come home _right now_ ,” he whispered back. He knew that if the person at the door really was supernatural, they could probably hear him either way but, hey, a boy could dream, right?

“Why? What’s happening?” Derek asked, sounding alert all of a sudden.

“Well,” Stiles started to explain when a loud crash could be heard from just outside the loft, and Derek had obviously heard it as well for he promised he’d be there as soon as possible and then hung up on him.

“You’d better,” Stiles grumbled at his phone as he shoved it back into the pocket of his jeans and gripped the frying pan with both hands once again.

The crash had switched back to pounding once more and Stiles had no idea how long he could keep himself from having a major panic-attack.

He tried to take deep, steady breaths, but those - as well as the fast beating of his heart - hurt his injuries.

 

Stiles, without even realizing it, took a few steps back as he heard the door creak in protest until he was completely backed up against the refrigerator, the metal cold against his bare back. He hated how extremely vulnerable it all made him feel, but there was not much to do about that right now.

The only hope for him was either Derek to arrive or the intruder to get tired and give up altogether. He feared the last wasn’t actually going to happen though.

 

A way louder growl than the ones he had heard before was what made all the noises come to a stop, not even ten agonizing minutes later. Stiles didn’t remember ever being this relieved to hear that particular sound, because he knew for sure it had to be Derek. He braced himself for the sounds of a fight going on, for clashing claws, ripping teeth and maybe some howling, but none of it ever came.

 

“Erica?”

It was Derek’s confused voice, the low rumble of it proof he was still completely shifted.

“Hi, Derek,” a familiar, cheery voice greeted the alpha casually. Stiles had to focus to hear it all that well but his faced drained of all colour once he realized it was in fact the blonde girl’s voice.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?” Derek bellowed, sounding angrier than Stiles had ever heard him before. He hadn’t believed it was possible but, well, he guessed people really are never too old to learn.

“Having some fun,” Erica answered him plainly, and Stiles could – even through the thick, metal door – hear the smirk in her voice. Which, admittedly, was always there, but whatever. Stiles really didn’t think it was appropriate this time.

Derek didn’t seem to think so either because Stiles could hear him snarl at her angrily.

“Oh come on, Derek, I was just teasing Sti-“

“Did you not _hear_ how scared he was?” Derek yelled at her and Stiles was really glad he was not on the receiving end of that because it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he wasn’t even the man’s beta. The alpha usually managed to stay pretty calm no matter how pissed off he was, but apparently, Erica had managed to get him way beyond that particular point.

“Did you forget he was attacked by a werewolf and nearly _died_ less than three days ago!? I can smell his fear from here; this isn’t a joke.”

“I-“

“Get out!” Derek growled.

“But, De-“

“Get. Out.”

 

The threatening words were followed by complete silence, which left Stiles holding his breath as he strained to hear what would happen next.

The door was pulled open and Derek walked in, his still-shifted face looking absolutely furious and his chest heaving rapidly.

He walked to Stiles in one straight line, eyes flickering down to the frying-pan in his hands but he decided to ignore it in favour of pulling the human into a bone-crushing hug.

The force of it, along with the astonishment of Derek actually voluntarily hugging him, left him completely breathless and he all but sacked against the alpha’s solid chest.

His hands were warm against Stiles back and his shirt felt surprisingly soft against his wounded skin.

“Fuck,” Derek cursed angrily once he had calmed down enough to shift back to his human form and his breathing was starting to go back to normal. 

 

Derek didn’t look at him once he released him and gently pushed him into the direction of the couch. Once Stiles was settled on it, he walked back to the kitchen to stow away the pan and grab his guest a glass of water. He handed it wordlessly and Stiles gratefully took it from him, taking a large gulp which was more than just a little uncomfortable to swallow down.

Derek was combing a hand through his hair in frustration and then finally met Stiles’ eyes.

“It was Erica,” he told him, although they both were well aware Stiles already knew that much.

“Yeah, I heard,” he answered stupidly. He really did not know what to say; he felt bad for freaking out and apparently worrying the alpha this much but it was not like he could’ve prevented it. Shit, he had only been seconds away from having an actual panic attack, for fuck’s sake.

 

“Fuck, I should’ve never left you alone,” Derek growled at no one in particular after a short moment of silence, his eyes flashing dangerously red all over. Stiles started to shake his head however, and argued that Derek couldn’t follow him around like some kind of guard dog forever.

The alpha barely let him finish as he grumbled at his words and looked at Stiles with a unhappy frown on his face.

“I most definitely can,” he snapped at him.

 

Stiles wasn’t sure why, but those words, as well as the way he had said them, made him unbelievingly mad. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline in his veins or maybe it was because he was fed up with being locked in Derek’s house for so long, but once he felt it, there was no way to get rid of it but to take it out on the alpha.

“Oh my god, just shut up,” he whined in annoyance as he could feel anger bubbling up inside of him.

“You don’t have to be the freakin’ hero all the time. I can take care of myself!” he retorted.

Derek only raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, then said in a tone that sounded pretty damn close to amused: “oh really?”

His eyes flickered down at his chest as if to prove a point and Stiles just sighed tiredly.

“Yes, really!” he answered nevertheless; they both knew it wasn’t necessarily true.

“I could’ve just as well called Scott or Isaac, you know,” he continued, “I _don’t need you_.”

“Than why didn’t you?” Derek challenged him as he continue to glower at him.

Stiles flailed his arms in frustration. It was something that had come to him like second nature for years now, but this time shot an searing pain down his spine. He gasped at the burn and squeezed his eyes shut, yet the moment Derek laid hands on him to ease his pain, he pushed him away to prove his ‘not needing him’ point. It was stubborn, and extremely childish but he was just _done_ with Derek handling him like he was some fragile thing that needed to be taken care of 24/7.

 

“I am going home,” Stiles announced once he was able to talk over the pain again, already getting up ever so slowly to go find the keys to his jeep and a shirt to wear.

“No, you are not,” Derek said, his voice suddenly calm again. The youngest couldn’t help but to frown at him.

“Yes, I am,” he argued back, just because he could. He knew Derek would never actually hurt him, so what was there to lose? Except for someone to keep him company while he couldn’t go to school, who made him three meals a day without a single complaint, who woke him every time he had a nightmare and who made sure he took all of his pills on time, maybe.

“No. You are not,” the alpha repeated in that authoritive tone of his which always managed to give Stiles goosebumps all over.  This time was no exception and Stiles cursed his body for betraying him like that.

“Why not?” he questioned. He wasn’t giving up that easy.

“Because I say so,” Derek growled now, starting to get angry all over again. God, Stiles suddenly remembered why he had hated his guts in the first place.

 

“Where are my keys?” he demanded to know, ignoring the alpha as he continued to walk around the apartment in search for his car key. He didn’t care about the bloodstains in the back of his jeep or the wounds on his body his father would definitely find out about if he went home right now; he just wanted to leave already. The werewolf was driving him absolutely crazy and he desperately needed to get away from him.

“Peter has them,” Derek told him, which caused Stiles to look at him with big, surprised eyes. The eldest just shrugged, and then told him he was taking care of the bloodstains for him.

Stiles really, _really_ wished Derek wouldn’t hear how his heart actually skipped a beat at the confession.

“He is?” he asked incredibly while trying his hardest not to gape at the man in front of him.

“Yes. Now sit your ass back down; you’ll start bleeding again if you don’t stop moving soon.”

 

## ***

 

“Stiles.”

 

The boy turned his head so the only thing he could see was the back rest of the couch he was once again lying on, refusing to even acknowledge Derek’s presence. They hadn’t spoken for _hours –_ which had been impossible to explain when Scott had visited, so none of them had even tried to in the first place – but Stiles was still mad at him. And at Peter, who had looked at them for a second or two, had snorted and then disappeared upstairs.

Stiles had no idea what the fuck he had meant by that and it frustrated him to no end.

 

“Stiles, I am sorry for getting angry with you,” Derek tried again, his voice more gentle than the teenager had ever heard it before.

“I was scared for your safety and angry at Erica for being so reckless and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Stiles still decided to ignore him, even though his words somehow made sense. After all, he had done the exact same thing to Derek himself.

‘Please, just-“

“Whatever,” Stiles huffed. He really did not want to talk about it, and he would appreciate it if Derek didn’t mention it again.

The alpha sighed at that, but dropped to subject either way. He walked away from the living room and into the kitchen, only to come back and hold out the plastic cup with sleeping draught for Stiles to take.

He wordlessly took the cup and downed it in one go, then lay back down reluctantly, knowing he’d be asleep in less than five minutes now.

 

And because his mum had always told him to ‘ _never go to sleep angry,’_  he murmured he was sorry as well.

 

The last thing Stiles heard before falling asleep was Derek’s surprised, chocked out chuckle.


	5. 'Cause our two hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii :)  
> Thank you for all of the lovely comments so far!
> 
> I have managed to finish the entire story by now, so I'll update quite a lot the next couple of days.  
> I am also working on two new stories, one that is like a continuation of this one and one that's a stand-alone story :)
> 
> Hope you guys will be interested in those as well.

_“Holy fucking shit, shit, shit!" Stiles exclaimed in panic as he turned away from Jackson once he was shifted, and started to run for his life. He ran as fast as his legs allowed him to - which wasn't that fast at all, really - and until his lungs were completed burning by the effort of heaving in quick breaths. He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get away from the werewolf who was slowly closing in on him, and cursed some more._

_When he looked around - despite knowing that was probably going to be the death of him because every single time someone did that in a horror movie they_ definitely _died - Jackson was almost close enough to take one final leap and force him to the ground, only to rip him completely apart with his teeth. It'd be a pretty nasty sight to see, Stiles was sure of it._

_Just as he could literally feel Jackson's hot, threatening breath against the back of his neck and the thumping of the wolf’s footsteps against the field resonating through his entire being, Stiles bumped into a solid chest. And for a second he feared he wouldn't get killed by just one, but two wolves._

_The body he had walked up against, however, protectively wrapped its arms around the boy's shoulders and roared at his attacker with everything he had, reminding Stiles a little of a dog who's favourite toy was about to be taken away from him; a pretty, damn big and extremely loud dog._

_It had Stiles shivering in his arms, but he wrapped his own around Derek's middle in return nonetheless and pressed as closely against the alpha as possible. He didn’t know why, but he felt that it was the safest place to ever be and he knew he never wanted to leave._

_Jackson whined pitifully at the snarl he had received from the wolf who was obviously in charge of him, turned around and then fled into the woods surrounding the lacrosse field they were at._

_Stiles spend the next five minutes trying to calm his heart and his lungs and his brain down, while Derek just stroked his back through all of it. After a little while of just standing there, completely wrapped up in each other's arms, Stiles mumbled a soft thanks at his rescuer who didn't say anything back at all. Instead, Derek leaned down and breathed in heavily before he pressed a hot, wet kiss to Stiles shoulder, which had the boy holding his breath. Then the werewolf backed away just an inch or two to blow some cool air on it, causing Stiles to shiver against him again but for an entirely different reason this time around._

_The alpha leaned in again, brushed his nose down the shell of his ear all the way to his neck, sniffing repeatedly, and then kissed the spot just below his ear gently. It didn't take too long before the alpha was sucking on the skin roughly, however, which Stiles just knew would leave a pretty impressive love bite. He had no idea why the_ hell _Derek would do all this to him, but he wasn’t one to complain really. Stiles doubted anyone would ever complain if Derek Hale were to devour their neck, if he was being really honest with himself. It was just a thing you simply let people who were that hot do to you._

_Stiles gasped when Derek's tongue lapped at the mark he had made softly afterwards, then pulled away to be able to look at the boy, who’s mouth was still slightly agape in both shock and pleasure and his breath coming out quickly._

_He watched as Derek's eyes flickered down to his lips and eventually leaned in to capture them with his own. The kiss started out sweet and gentle and Stiles wondered if the butterflies fluttering about in his stomach were actually real. Because, let’s be honest; he wouldn’t even be surprised anymore. Werewolves and snake-people and death-predicting banshees were real, so why wouldn’t stomach-butterflies be?_

_But then the slow, exploring kiss turned heated and the boy lost all ability to think straight. Before Stiles even realized it, he was opening up to allow the werewolf to lick into his mouth greedily while his hands were fisting the back of Derek's shirt helplessly. If Jackson would come back and take them both down now, it sure would be a good way to go._

_Stiles actually moaned into the kiss when Derek went to suck on his bottom lip and then even bit down on it with just enough pressure to hurt but still be pleasant, causing Stiles to buck his hips forward instinctively._

_The alpha smirked at that, seeming more than just a little satisfied, which seemed to drive Stiles completely insane._

_His hands released the man's shirt and slid towards his front and below the fabric to feel his solid abs beneath warm, smooth skin. Stiles was aware of where they were and a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him he should probably not try to get off with Derek freakin' Hale at the middle of his High School's Lacrosse field, but he really couldn't bring himself to care right now. All that mattered was the feeling of Derek's hands on his ass and the taste of him on his tongue and the pleasant buzzing underneath Stiles' skin of wanting more, more, more._

_As if Derek was able to read his thoughts or maybe just smell his arousal mixed with anticipation, he lowered his hands until they were at the back of Stiles thighs. He lifted him up without breaking a sweat whatsoever and Stiles squeaked in surprise but quickly got the message to wrap his legs around Derek's middle. He had to lean down to be able to kiss the guy again._

_Derek’s subtle was scratching against the soft skin of his neck and his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of his ass, hurting him in the best way possible. Stiles really couldn't help but moan into the kiss when he squeezed it._

_"Derek," he mumbled against the man's lips as one of his hands came up to cup his face and stroke the surprisingly soft skin with his thumb while the alpha pulled him even closer against his body like he knew exactly what Stiles wanted from him._

_"Stiles," he said back, sounding far away and not at all like they were currently making out. He even sounded a little panicked and Stiles pulled back so he was able to look down at him from where he was still held up by him. Derek has his eyes closed and his face leaning against Stiles' hand as if he tried to get him to start tracing his cheekbone with his thumb again._

_"Stiles," he repeated, louder this time and it still sounded off._

_"What is it?" Stiles asked him carefully, looking confused now. He hadn't seen Derek's lips moving and he still looked way more relaxed than he had sounded. Stiles leaned in to peck his lips gently, hoping it would take his mind off of whatever it was he was…_

 

"Stiles!" 

"Oh my good god," Stiles snapped irritably, still pretty sleep-drunk as he jolted upright. Except for the relief of his chest hurting even less than the day before, Stiles could quickly feel embarrassment taking over his entire being once he realized he had been dreaming. About Derek. About _kissing_ Derek, even. Holy _shit_. 

He could _so_ not look at the alpha right now.

 

"Good morning," Peter chirped from where he was watching him with that evil smirk of his around his lips, which made Stiles feel a whole lot uneasy. The boy automatically felt his face heating up and quickly looked away. 

"What," he tried as a way to regain himself, "I wasn't even screaming bloody murder this time."

"No, you definitely weren't having a _scary_ dream," Peter chuckled lowly – he was obviously enjoying this, the bastard – "that much is obvious." 

Stiles tried to look as subtly down as possible, and breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed he wasn't actually having a severe case of morning wood in the middle of the Hale residence's living room. That would have been way beyond awkward.

But then the probability of the two wolves being able to smell his arousal dawned on him and he really wished the earth would just swallow him whole already. That definitely would be a lot less worse than the situation he found himself in right now. 

 

As Stiles finally mustered the courage to look in Derek's general direction, he noticed his cheeks were almost as crimson as his own felt, though his stubble did a decent job at hiding it,9  and he was frowning down at the floor instead of at Stiles. 

Stiles wondered if there was any way the wolves were able to sense who exactly he had been dreaming about. Maybe Stiles had actually talked in his sleep and said – or, knowing Stiles’ luck – moaned the alpha’s name.

The boy figured there was no way to find out but to ask either one of the wolves and, well, that sure as hell was not going to happen any time soon.

 

"Okay, so, who wants breakfast?" Peter asked once he figured the awkward silence had lasted long enough for his liking, already getting up to walk up to the kitchen. 

Neither Derek nor Stiles replied which had the older man sighing comprehensively.

“I guess just me then,” he continued to talk, completely unbothered by the behaviour of the other two, and started to whistle a melody as he grabbed a frying pan – the one Stiles had picked as his weapon of choice the day before – and started making pancakes.

It smelled absolutely delicious, and Stiles really appreciated his appetite coming back to him.

“I want pancakes,” he decided right then and there, getting up and ignoring Derek’s frown which was _finally_ directed at him in favour of walking passed him and towards the kitchen.

“Attaboy,” Peter nodded delightfully at him, and expertly flipped the first pancake with a pleased grin on his face.

 

## ***

 

Derek finally allowed Stiles to take a shower around four in the afternoon, after a hell of a lot of whining. It’s not so much because Stiles was able to move around without groaning in pain every five seconds, but rather because Derek was too tired of the entire situation to even argue with him anymore. They had barely spoken two words at each other ever since Derek had woken him from his ‘sexy dream’ and things had been awkward all over again.

Stiles couldn’t really bring himself to care however, since he felt a lot more energetic and like he was ready to take on the world again by the time he turned the warm water off and stepped out of the shower. He managed to dry himself off without too much trouble and explored Derek’s bedroom in favour of finding a shirt he could wear for the rest of the day. It would be the first time he wouldn’t walk around half-naked since the Jackson-incident.

 

He picked a marine-coloured shirt with sleeves which were long enough to cover Stiles’ hands, then walked downstairs where only Derek was to be found.

“Do I even want to know where Peter went this time?” he asked as he let himself fall down on the couch next to Derek, leaving only a few inches of space in between them.

Derek didn’t look up from his book as he answered him that, no, he probably didn’t.

“Alright,” Stiles agreed easily, then reached for his laptop to start another episode of the crappy investigation show he had been watching. He had already finished the homework Scott had brought him the day before and since his best friend wasn’t able to come over until later in the evening to bring him the next load, there wasn’t much else to do.

Stiles secretly hoped Scott would be able to take him home tonight actually, but he had yet to ask Derek that much. He knew there was no way for it to happen if the alpha did not approve, no matter how uncomfortable things were between them.

 

“Is that my shirt?” Derek asked when the first episode of the day had almost come to an end, and Stiles looked down at himself before he looked at the man next to him.

“No, Erica and Boyd stopped on the way here to pack me a freakin’ suitcase full of shirts while I was bleeding out in the backseat,” he replied within a heartbeat, which caused Derek to raise his eyebrows at him, seemingly unimpressed.

“Yes; obviously it is your shirt, sherlock.”

“Alright,” Derek nodded, then returned his attention to the book in his lap. Stiles gaped unintelligibly at him before starting his series up again. He really wished he could get some insight on that big, werewolf brain of his sometimes, because most of the time, he had no idea what the hell was going on inside of it.

 

When Stiles started up the third episode of the day, Derek groaned in frustration, shut his book and shifted until he was right beside Stiles, his right thigh pressed up against the boy’s left and their shoulders bumping.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked him wearily, his eyes flicking to where his leg felt hot from the wolf’s higher body temperature.

“I can’t concentrate on my book,” he grunted, “so I figured I might as well watch your crappy show.”

“Who said you could?”

Derek turned his face to glare at him and Stiles only then realized how incredibly close he actually was to him. He could pretty much feel the guy’s warm breath hitting his forehead and blinked his eyes rapidly at him in slight panic before looking back to the screen of his laptop.

They watched the entire episode in silence, Stiles way too nervous to move a muscle. He got thirsty halfway through it, but didn’t dare get up since there was no way he was able to sit back down and be just as close to Derek as he was right now.

 

The boy spend more time wondering if the alpha had already forgotten about this morning’s proceedings than actually paying attention to the actors which were solving a crime no real cop would ever be able to solve. And if he hadn’t, – which was most likely – why he still wanted to be up and personal with him now even though he had completely freaked out before.

 

The scariest thought of all, however, was how Stiles could picture it all so easily: going to the loft after school to bicker with Derek about the importance of homework or how he got that bruise on his arm even though they both knew it was because Stiles was a huge klutz, watching series together and eventually falling asleep on the couch as they were wrapped up in each other’s arm.

It was something that had never occurred to Stiles before because it had been so extremely far from reality. But now, as they were actually watching series together because even though Derek had been annoyed by the sound of it, he had decided to just bear with it instead of telling Stiles to turn it the fuck down, it wasn’t anymore.

And it made something swell in his chest when he thought back to every single thing the alpha had done for him over the past couple of days. The way he had fed him with so much patience, had held him carefully even when he usually didn’t even know his own strength or how he had completely lost his mind just because Erica dared to play with Stiles’ emotions. And yeah, he had taken it out on Stiles but it was because he _cared,_ and the boy refused to believe anything else.

It was something Stiles never though Derek would do for someone else, let alone for him.

 

Derek inhaled sharply all of a sudden and Stiles hated how he still noticed it no matter how subtle the alpha tried to be about it. It was just hard to ignore, the way his nostrils flared and his chest grew even bigger.

Stiles also noticed how Derek shut his eyes for a second and looked like he was considering whether to say something to him or not. He eventually – apparently – opted not to which had Stiles clenching his jaw in frustration.

He had no idea what Derek had just smelled on him, and at this point he didn’t matter how embarrassing it was; he just needed to know. Because ever since his rather confusing, yet very, _very_ arousing dream, he had the idea there was happening so much around him he wasn’t aware of and it was driving him utterly insane.

Stiles usually was one of the first to know what was going on, but the way Peter kept talking in riddles and smirking at him like he knew so much more, or the way Derek’s face would close up or he wouldn’t finish his sentences surely had to mean that this time, he didn’t.

 

“I can hear the gears in your head turning from here,” Derek complained out of nowhere, and Stiles dared to look at him again, frowning a little. But before he could ask him what he meant by that or to apologize to the alpha – and really, since when was that even an option? – Derek simply told him to stop it.

 

Alrighty then.

 

## ***

 

Stiles didn’t even realise he’d been asleep until whatever his head was leaning on started to move ever so slightly and Derek, who sounded _way_ too close, greeted someone Stiles was pretty sure wasn’t actually there.

But when he opened up his eyes slowly and lifted his head up from where it was resting against Derek’s shoulder – the entire left side of his body was still pretty much pressed up against the alpha – he noticed the man was talking to someone over the phone.

Damn his human ears for not being able to tell who it was or what it was they were saying.

Derek sounded calm, – like, actually calm and not his _‘I’m-scared-shitless-or-extremely-angry-but-don’t-want-to-show-it_ calm – so Stiles was pretty sure there weren’t any new, scary creatures killing people again. He strained to hear whoever was on the line was talking about either way.

 

“Okay, thanks.”

And that was the last Derek had to say on what had to be the shortest phone conversation _ever_. Stiles looked at him curiously, but Derek got up and shut Stiles’ laptop for him.

“We have to go,” he announced, looking at Stiles expectantly.

The boy furrowed his brows and wondered if Derek had said anything about going somewhere earlier and he had just temporarily forgotten with how sleepy he was, but couldn’t come up with anything. So he just asked.

“Where are we going?”

“I am taking you home,” the alpha announced. And when all Stiles did was stare at him unintelligibly, he rolled his eyes the slightest bit and sighed.

“You are able to walk around and do whatever it is you do without showing you are in excruciating pain and, according to Peter, your dad just left for the station. So, this is your change to sneak back into your house.”

“Right,” Stiles mumbled. He had been looking forward to this moment for quite a while, but now that it was finally here, he was a little reluctant to leave.

“Melissa will call your dad the moment you get home to tell you she brought you there, but that you probably shouldn’t go to school for a day or two. Which means you can stay in bed and heal some more without anybody finding out.”

All Stiles could do was nod to show he understood, and if the tiny smile Derek shot him seemed a little disappointed as well, Stiles didn’t mention it.

He was probably only imagining it either way.

 

Stiles quickly collected his keys, laptop and his shoes which he hadn’t been wearing for days and then the two of them left in silence.

 

The ride home wasn’t much better either. And although Stiles had never cared much for the lack of conversation between the two of them, he definitely did now. It just felt like there was so much left unsaid.

Because, whether Derek liked it or not, something had certainly changed between them. Derek was nothing like the moody, intimidating werewolf Stiles had met in the woods when they went searching for Stiles’ inhaler. He was more like this authoritive, caring guy who took care of his pack – and therefor of Stiles – and who’d watch movies he didn’t even like with him.

Stiles wouldn’t actually call him _soft_ , but he definitely wasn’t the tough guy he endlessly pretended to be. 

 

Stiles kind of expected Derek to leave the moment they got at his house, but none of that happened. Instead, the alpha wordlessly followed him into the house and up the stairs, all the way to his bedroom.

The human just stared at him, waiting for him to leave without as much as a goodbye, but that didn’t quite occur either. So Stiles pulled his blanket back, quickly got out of his pants – deliberately keeping on Derek’s shirt to provoke a discussion or at least a grumble – and when still nothing happened, crawled into his own, comfortable bed.

The moment his head hit the pillow, his eyes started to droop _again_ and it took all of his willpower not to slip into unconsciousness right then and there.

“Okay, so remember; you cannot go to school until you are _completely_ healed and you call me when something happens, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

“Alright?” Derek asked when Stiles didn’t reply. Or at least not with words.

“Yeah, okay,” he gave in.

“Okay,” the alpha nodded, seemingly satisfied with the lack of protest, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight Derek,” Stiles mumbled back. He knew the wolf didn’t need him to speak up either way.

 

“Thanks for everything.”

 

He could only just see Derek smiling down at his boots timidly and then he disappeared from view altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think :)  
> It kinda makes my day to read sweet comments and keeps me motivated to write the new stories.


	6. Will make it easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, finally; some much needed fluff.  
> Hope you guys enjoy
> 
> BTW, in case you're interested in the rules of the game they play in this chapter, see the notes below :)

_“You’re not even watching,” Stiles huffed out in annoyance, his eyes never leaving the screen of his laptop which was playing the newest Avengers movie. He should’ve known Derek wasn’t really interested in it when he was the one who had suggested they’d see it, but Stiles was never going to let that opportunity pass. Like, ever._

_“No,” the alpha agreed softly from where his chest was plastered against Stiles’ back and his legs on either side of his body. His fingers were combing through the boy’s hair softly, the tips of his fingers gently scratching his scalp. Stiles might have been pressing his head back against it a little, but he probably wouldn’t admit it even if his life depended on it._

_“Are you bored? Because we can totally-“_

_His sentences was cut short when Derek hummed softly – which wasn’t much of an answer, really – and then lowered his head so that he was able to press a soft kiss against his cheek, nosing down towards his jawline and neck._

_“I could never be bored when you are this close to me,” Derek whispered and Stiles had to admit he did actually sound pretty content. Yet it was such an un-Derek-like thing to say, and it just didn’t make sense._

_“Oh my god, you didn’t just say that to me.”_

_He wiggled around until he was sort of able to look the older guy in the eyes, which were just blinking innocently at him._

_“What?”_

_“You’re a total sap,” Stiles accused him, a sly grin appearing on his lips. He was_ so _going to use this against the alpha someday. Many days, preferably._

_“’M not,” he argued, leaning forward to press his lips sweetly against Stiles’, but he wasn’t having it. Which; since when?_

_“You totally are. You are an even bigger sap that Scott, and that, my friend, really is saying something.”_

_Derek rolled his eyes and groaned at him half-heartedly._

_“Why the hell do I even love you?” he sighed pitifully, as if he were mourning all of his previous life choices. And then it hit both of them._

_Derek’s eyes grew twice in size as his cheeks went from a little pale to almost purple within seconds while the biggest grin to ever exist almost split Stiles’ face in two._

_“You love me?” he questioned, poking the boy behind him in the (rock hard, wow) chest._

_“No,” Derek shot back way too quickly, looking more uncomfortable than Stiles had ever seen him._

_“You so do!” Stiles exclaimed cheerfully, “you love me. You love me so, so much!”_

_The older man pushed at him but it didn’t hurt him like Derek was definitely capable of. Or, now that Stiles came to think about it, maybe he wasn’t all that capable of hurting Stiles. Not anymore, at least._

_“Why are you denying it? We both know it’s true; I don’t need supernatural powers to know you’re lying your pretty ass of right now.”_

_“I-“ Derek frowned at him, “you really think my a-“_

_“Not the point, Derek,” Stiles rolled his eyes fondly._

_“You do realize I love you too, right?”_

_The alpha continued to frown as he stared at Stiles as if he were trying to figure him out. He was pretty certain he never would, because even after almost seventeen years, his dad still hadn’t figured him out either so… Yeah, never gonna happen._

_“You do?”_

_“Yup,” Stiles smirked, popping the p just for good measure._

_“Like, I kinda picked out a location for our wedding already and I might have told Scott to get started on writing his heart-breaking speech because our wedding won’t be done until at least half of our guests are crying.”_

_Derek opened his mouth to reply but Stiles just continued babbling about ‘what a sight it would be to see Peter cry, can you even imagine?’_

_“You are such an idiot,” Derek groaned at that, leaning in to kiss Stiles hard and passionate, his hand curling around the back of the boy’s head._

_“I really don’t know why I am in love with you.”_

_Stiles then turned around all the way until he was on his knees in between Derek’s spread legs and had to bend down to be able to continue their kiss, his hands pushing against the older guy’s shoulders to get him to lie back. He was lying half on top of him then, not even worrying about crushing the werewolf with his weight as Derek’s hands started roaming up and down his back, pushing below his shirt._

_“Peter might hear us,” Stiles whispered against his lips, gasping a little when two strong hands came down to grip his ass._

_“Or smell us; that would definitely be embarrassing,” he added as an afterthought._

_“Shut up,” Derek grumbled at him, but once Stiles’ mind was focused on something, it was hard to let it go._

_“The entire pack is probably going to smell this at some point. I would literally die of embarrassment.”_

_“Stiles.”_

_“Not that I am ashamed of being with you, but just, you know, after everything that we’ve-“_

_“Stiles,” Derek tried again, sounding a little annoyed but also worried, as if he were seriously questioning Stiles’ sanity. Honestly, he wouldn’t be the first._

_“Scott is_ so _going to-“_

“Stiles!”

“Fuck, why do you keep do-“

Stiles blinked against the bright lights coming in through his bedroom window instead of the huge glass walls in Derek’s loft, then looked at his dad with slightly bewildered eyes.

“Hi son,” his dad said as he raised his brows at the boy.

“How are you feeling?”

Stiles swallowed as he tried to come up with the words, which usually was no problem to him at all.

“Better?” he said, trying to sound as plausible as possible while in fact it wasn’t a lie at all. His chest hurt less and less with each passing day and soon enough, the only evidence that would be left would be the huge scars covering his entire chest. No biggie.

“Good, that’s…” his dad nodded, ”that’s good.”

“Melissa said you’d probably be fine in a few days and that there’s not much to worry about but if you want me to stay home until you’re ready to go back to school, I-“

“Dad, I am fine. The only thing I will be doing all day is either watch Netflix or sleep, so…”

“Right. So, I can make breakfast, but-“

“Dad!” Stiles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly, “just go already. If something is up, I promise I will call, ‘kay?”

The boy didn’t point out _who_ exactly he’d call, but knew for sure it would be Derek and not the sheriff.

“Okay,” his father nodded, then slowly turned around and walked out of his room.

“Love you!” he called over his shoulder, and Stiles parroted it back.

 

As soon as his dad had left and he could hear the door to his car slamming shut, Stiles hopped out of his bed and walked down the stairs where he frantically searched for coco pops. He obviously didn’t find any, and with a frown on his face which was way to exorbitant when it came to cereal, he knew, ate the cheerios his father kept buying.

He glanced at the opposite side of the kitchen counter over his breakfast bowl but nobody was there, looking down at cereal and chewing it as if it had personally offended them.

Stiles sighed, moved a hand through his messy hair in frustration and wondered how he was ever going to survive a day without Derek Hale around.

 

Which was complete idiocy, since Stiles had never imagined he’d be able to survive a day _with_ the alpha. He felt like a proper crazy person every single time he realized he had only stayed at the guy’s home for less than four days, and yet he had managed to develop the biggest crush _ever_ on the person he had always despised most. It just didn’t seem like a thing Stiles would do. Ever.

 

## ***

 

“Stiles?”

The boy was in his bed, staring at the wall as he had his blanket pulled all the way up to his chin and soft music playing in the background.

 

When his dad had first left, he figured the best way to spend the day was by playing video games and eating junk food all day. Instead, he had been in bed for the past couple of hours, trying to think of anything but a moody alpha with brooding eyes and a killer smile who would’ve definitely made him eat or drink something by now.

“Up here,” Stiles mumbled quietly, because since it was Scott who had just set foot inside the Stilinski Residence, there was no use to speak up.

Two pairs of footsteps, however, made their way up and walked into the boy’s bedroom and for a second or two, there was this tiny spark of hope flaring through him, causing his heart to skip a quick beat.

He turned around a little to be able to see, and his face fell the moment he spotted Isaac behind his best friend. _Of course_ , it was Isaac who was following Scott around.

 

“Jesus, it smells terrible in here,” the curly blonde complained, scrunching up his nose as he looked around Stiles’ decently clean room.

“Well, hello to you too, Lahey,” Stiles grumbled, rolling his eyes at the boys who were both just looking at him with matching puzzled expressions.

“What’s wrong, Stiles?” Scott demanded to know as he sat down at the foot of Stiles’ bed, looking at him intently. Stiles just sighed and went back to glaring holes in his wallpaper.

“I thought you’d be happy to be back home. Derek said you were doing a lot better, and that you weren’t constantly in pain anymore.”

Stiles honest-to-god cringed at the mention of the alpha and Isaac snorted the moment he did it.

“Oh my god,” he cackled, and he didn’t back down even when not only Stiles, but also Scott was glaring at him.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Isaac chuckled knowingly, seeming way too gleesome with this bit of information.

“You miss Derek.”

“You seriously think I miss someone who keeps growling at me at all times and who has a vocabulary that consists for eighty percent of different kinds of grunts?” Stiles retorted, since straight-up lying definitely wouldn’t help his case here.

“Yes, I do, actually” Isaac shrugged easily, still smiling like made as he let himself fall down onto Stiles’ desk chair.

 

Scott, from where he had been watching the other beta with a lost expression on his face, turned to look at Stiles. He was frowning a little, like he was really thinking about what he was going to say next.

Stiles knew from experience that never meant much good, especially when that look was directed at him; the two of them had been friends for so long that there barely ever was a moment where one of them felt like they couldn’t just speak their mind.

“Is he right?” Scott asked then, tentatively, like the question alone was enough to offend Stiles to no end. Well, actually, it was. But that was beside the point.

“No,” Stiles answered him, knowing very well his heart had to at least skip three beats instead of just one at the lie, “now, you two can either shut up about it or get the hell out of my house.”

Isaac raised both of his hands to show he was going to drop the subject and Scott quickly started to talk about school. When Stiles decided that wasn’t really his subject of choice either, Isaac suggested they’d play some much needed video games.

 

The boy threw the blankets off of him in order to get out of bed and into the living room, which caused another roar of laughter to echo through his bedroom. And it wasn’t just Isaac this time.

“You’re wearing his _shirt_? Really, Stiles?” Scott couldn’t help but giggle at him.

Stiles rolled his eyes, flipped him off and then pushed him off of his bed and onto the ground as he passed him.

 

## ***

 

Stiles spend the rest of Wednesday and the entirety of Thursday sulking to no end, as well as convincing himself he wasn’t actually sulking. And he might have also done a tiny amount of homework and a hell of a lot of sleeping.

 

He went back to school on Friday, exactly one week after the incident, and although his wounds were still far from healed completely, he was finally able to go through his everyday life without showing any signs of pain.

Which, unfortunately, did not mean there wasn’t any, but at least it was mild enough to hide it from the people around him.

Coach Finstock had been told that whatever Stiles had was contagious and therefor had banned him from the field for at least two weeks – which was completely fine by him, seeing as what had occurred there and all – so the boy did not have to worry about changing in front of his teammates any time soon either.

 

All in all, school was a nice distraction from his pathetic, Derek-less reality.

 

“Stiles!” Lydia chirped from right next to him, and he really wasn’t the one to blame when he jumped and cursed a little too loud, gaining quite some attention from the people around them.

“Fuck, what do you want woman?” he asked her, looking annoyed while he wasn’t actually; no matter how obvious it was he was crushing on someone else now, he’d always have a soft spot for the smart girl with strawberry-blonde hair.

She rolled her eyes at him with an attitude only girls in the movie ‘mean girls’ – and the females from the Martin’s family, apparently – could pull off and told him the entire pack was having a small get together at her place that night, to celebrate him being in the running again.

“And there’s no way we’re celebrating without you, so, unlike the rest of the pack, you don’t really have a choice,” she shrugged easily, then turned around and strutted off, proving her point of Stiles not having a say in this.

“Great,” he muttered at no one in particular, realizing it was a good thing she wasn’t actually a werewolf who would’ve easily heard him say it from so far away.

 

He took the jeep home where he took a shower and then crawled into his bed for a quick power nap, because even after lying around and sleeping twice or maybe even three times as much as he usually did, he still felt completely drained of all energy. Scott had said his mum had told him it was normal, since his body was working so hard to heal his wounds for him. It was a better explanation than still being poisoned from the sleeping draught Derek had been feeding him all those days; that was for sure.

When he woke up about four hours later, he quickly changed, put some gel in his hair which was getting a lot longer than it had been when his life had been flipped up side down completely, and left for Lydia’s party. 

 

A ‘small get together’ at the Martin Residence usually meant blaring music, about thirty people out in the front yard and at the very least fifty more inside of the house. None of that was what Stiles was met with however when he got out of his jeep and walked over to the door to ring the bell. So apparently, it really was just a pack thing.

Lydia opened the door and stepped aside to let him in. She was wearing another tiny dress than the one she had been wearing to school that day, but Stiles didn’t really pay that or her gorgeous, fair legs any attention.

Instead he walked straight passed her and into the living room, where the entire pack was sitting in a large circle. The entire pack minus Derek, that is.

 

Everybody looked up at his arrival and cheered his name as if he had been gone for months, instead of just a couple of days. And he hadn’t really been that far; just at their alpha’s loft barely any of the betas ever seemed to visit except for when he was there. And still it hadn’t been all that much.

 

“Hey,” he waved, feeling a little uncomfortable as everybody was watching him and took the only seat that was left, which was in the middle of the big ass couch, right in between Scott and Erica.

Isaac, who was opposite of him with only the coffee table in between them, grinned at him knowingly and Stiles forced the slightly disappointed look off of his face as he listened to the story Allison had apparently started to tell before he had interrupted her by coming in.

It was about another bizarre training method her father had used on her, and even the wolves who weren’t that easily impressed anymore when it came to danger or stress, cringed at the details.

Allison herself didn’t seem all to bothered by it, claimed it was something ever Argent had to go through at some point in their life, and that she was getting pretty close to her graduation. Which apparently was to make her own silver bullet and, seriously, how did Scott keep up with her anymore? Knowing she was trained every single day to kill werewolves like he was himself. It was complete insanity, is what it is.

 

“Okay, so,” Lydia said the moment the story was over, obviously trying to lighten the mood a little, “who wants to play Kings?”

Jackson, as well as Erica and Scott raised their eyebrows at her, seemingly unimpressed.

“You know we can’t get drunk, right?” her boyfriend asked her indignantly.

The girl rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in a way that showed she was a more than just a little insulted by her boyfriend’s lack of understanding of how smart she actually was.

“I’ve got wolfsbane,” she said, flipping her hair back like the drama queen she could be; Stiles might have still been a little mesmerized by her.

“The last time you had that, half the school was hallucinating,” Stiles pointed out, “and trust me; it wasn’t pretty.”

He shivered a little at the memory of seeing his dad in his all-black suit, drunk and mourning the loss of his wife. It was a lot like the memory of his mother’s actual funeral, although that had been a while back, and not in the middle of a High School party.

 

“I talked to Deaton,” Lydia smiled triumphantly at him, then looked around the circle, saying: “so, who’s in?”

 

## ***

 

“Scott, buddy, you gotta take a shot my friend,” Stiles slurred happily the moment his best friend accidentally looked into his eyes. He _loved_ being the sneaky eyes, loved how everybody avoided his general direction in fear of making eye-contact, and loved being able to call those out who did.

“You too, Stiles,” Lydia pointed out without looking at him and that’s when Stiles remembered they weren’t allowed to use the word ‘shot’ anymore. It was a cruel rule, and Stiles might hate Boyd a little for coming up with it.

“Why?” Jackson asked her, and she opened her mouth to reply, but then seemed to remember he was the quizmaster and therefor couldn’t answer him without paying the prize for it.

So Stiles got up from his chair, turned around once, yodelled loudly and then shook hands with the people on either side of him. And that’s when he could finally take his shot of Captain Morgan.

“Drink again, Stiles,” Erica told him while steadfastly looking away from him, “you shook Allison’s hand first, which is the wrong order.”

“Damnit,” Stiles cursed in frustration. He, since he hadn’t even had the change to sit down yet, turned around, yodelled once again and shook hands with the people next to him but in the opposite direction.

“I hate this game,” he muttered as Allison handed him another shot which he downed as quickly as possible.

“Everybody does,” Isaac pointed out. He was so far gone, Stiles thought it would be cruel to have him take another shot for definitely looking him in the eyes.

 

“It’s your turn, Stiles,” Erica whined impatiently, then got yelled at for saying one of the other forbidden words. She did the list of assignments, then took a large sip of her wolfsbane-drink, all of them laughing at her terrible yodelling.

Stiles reached for a card, praying to god it was a nine so he abolish one of the general rules – one of which was not being allowed to touch your own face and his nose was just _really itchy,_ damnit – but it actually was a five. Which was pretty neat as well.

“I get to pee!” he exclaimed happily, then threw his card to the table to show he actually was allowed to and ran off to the bathroom. Some people groaned as he left, obviously envious of his pee card.  

 

When he came back, all eyes turned to him and he laughed evilly, which was enough for everyone to figure out their own mistake. He watched giddily as all of them got up to spin around and snorted when they started yodelling over each other, Jackson’s version of it even more ridiculous than Erica’s, before they all had to shake each other’s hands in the right order.

Then Boyd got to pick a card which was a three which was pretty lame, since it meant Boyd just had to take another shot. Or a sip from the special wolfsbane drink in his case, obviously.

Scott was left with a four and without even having to think about it, Stiles’ hands started to imitate the movements of a river while Scott played to be a Viking and both Boyd and Jackson were rowing on either side of him. Scott passed the Viking on to Lydia, who looked ridiculous making thorns on top or her head with her pointer fingers and chanting ‘hoo, hoo, hoo’. Luckily for her, Erica, who was seated next to her, was still playing water instead of rowing and therefor had to take another drink.

 

The cards were almost gone completely, which was a good thing seeing as how much trouble everybody had to speak correctly and not fall off of their chairs.

Jackson grabbed a card, quickly stood up with one hand in the air while solemnly yelling “rise of the queen”. Everybody followed, with Isaac being the last to stand and therefor was supposed to have another drink.

“I think Isaac should have some water instead,” Allison said worriedly, taking the glass Jackson was trying to hand the boy and replacing it with her water. She had quite a lot to drink, but had been sipping water in between all the time – Stiles figured she had to be in desperate need of a pee card by now – so she was probably least drunk out of all of them.

 

The moments all cards were played, everybody practically ran towards one of the many bathrooms at Lydia’s place, since all but three of them hadn’t been allowed to pee for the entirety of the game.

The rule was that you couldn’t go from the moment someone did as much as suggest to play the game until the end of it, unless you pulled a five. Stiles had one, Scott had two and Jackson had one he apparently had forgotten to use since he had gotten it so early in the game.

 

Once everyone was back and had gotten their stuff, they left in order to get some much needed sleep. Stiles left his Jeep in Lydia’s driveway and started to walk back home, being accompanied by Erica who didn’t live too far away from him.

They did talk, although Stiles had _no idea_ what about. All he knew was how much he longed for his bed and stupid, _stupid_ Derek.

He hadn’t seen the guy in over three days now, which was almost as long as he had actually stayed with him. It just felt like so much longer this time around, and he knew exactly what that meant.

 

Stiles was standing in front of his own house before he even knew it, and Erica was no where to be seen. He hadn’t heard her leave and he probably hadn’t said bye to her.

Then again, she had been just as drunk as he was, probably, so it didn’t really matter much.

The boy tried to be as quiet as possible – which wasn’t very quiet at all – until he realised his dad was working the night shift anyways. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t bothered trying to stay at least a little sober; his dad wasn’t there to scold him for getting drunk this quickly after assumingly being so sick anyways.

He fell down on top of his bed, not bothering to take his clothes off or to get under the covers. Then Stiles reached for his phone, which was in the back pocket of his jeans, and dialled the number he had last called.

 

“Derek?” he slurred, Derek?”

“What is it, Stiles?”

Stiles was pretty sure he was just imagining the panic in the alpha’s voice and continued, completely unbothered.

 

“Derek, did you know I am falling in love with you yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know there are a million different versions of this game, but this is how my friends and I play it, and it is hi-la-ri-ous...
> 
> Ace: Revolve (the order of picking cards, that is)  
> 2: Forbidden word (can be any word or name)  
> 3: Shot (person who draws it has to take a shot)  
> 4: Viking (person who draws the card puts two hands at the top of their head resembling the horns of a Viking helmet and chant ‘hoo, hoo, hoo’. The people on their left and right have to row while the rest has to make water by wiggling their fingers/hands. The Viking can pass it on by pointing the horns to a random person and everyone has to adjust. This goes on until somebody messes it up.)  
> 5: Pee card (from the moment someone even suggests to play kings, no one is allowed to use the bathroom. Whoever draws a 5 can use it to go to the bathroom. You can use it right away, but you can also save it for later.)  
> 6: Task before shot (can be pretty much anyhing. The assignment has to be done every single time someone takes a shot, in the right order.)  
> 7: Multiply by (the person who draws this card gets to say a number which you have to add up to. Only, you can’t say that number or numbers that can be divided by that number. So, for example, someone chooses 3. The person next to them says 4, then 5. You skip 6, because 2 times 3 is 6. Then 7,8,10,11,14. You skip 9 and 12 because it can be divided by 3 and you skip 13 because it has a 3 in it. And so on, until someone makes a mistake.)  
> 8: General rule (the person who draws this card can set up a rule that goes for everyone and doesn’t disappear until someone pulls a 9.)  
> 9: Abolish general rule (you can pick one general rule to get rid of. This does not include rules that are originally part of the game.)  
> 10: Quizmaster (When you answer the quizmaster, you must take a shot. You stay a quizmaster from the moment you draw a 10, until the moment someone else draws it.)  
> Jack: Sneaky Eyes (You cannot look the sneaky eyes in the eyes, otherwise you must take a shot. You stay it until someone else draws a Jack)  
> Queen: Rise of the queen (The person who draws a queen has to stand up with one arm in the air like they are saluting and says “rise of the queen”. Whoever stands last or says it last, has to take a shot)  
> King: 4th is a shot (One person draws it, the fourth person who is in line has to take a shot. Goes in the same order as the rest of the game, which depends on the ace.)


	7. Joining up the pieces

_“He’s gone,” Stiles mumbled, looking around with frantic eyes to make sure the snake-like creature had actually left them alone, “he’s totally gone.”_

_His voice went a little higher up with how relieved he was and the words came out a little breathless due to having to hold his own as well as Derek’s head above the water of the school’s pool, but he refused to be embarrassed about it right now._

_“Good,” Derek huffed, “now get me the hell out of here.”_

_“Will do buddy,” Stiles grinned happily, already starting to swim both of them to the side of the pool so that they could get out. He could hear the alpha splutter the water that got into his mouth out again and he didn’t have to see his face to know he was more than just a little annoyed with Stiles. Which was totally unfair, because he was_ trying _, alright._

_“Almost there,” he panted as Stiles’ arm reached out and then grabbed the side of the pool tightly with his free hand. He pulled them to the edge and then looked around while trying to think how to go about getting Derek out. His body was still paralyzed, so it wasn’t like he’d be able to help him._

_“Uh, I-“ Stiles started off helplessly, biting down on his bottom lip as a way to concentrate at the task at hand._

_“How should I…”_

_“Can’t you just push me out?” Derek questioned and Stiles figured he should at least give it a try._

_“I don’t know, just let me…” and he didn’t finish his sentence before letting go of the alpha for a second to turn them around, Derek’s back now against the tiles of the pool and his front plastered against Stiles’ as he held onto him tightly. The youngest could feel his breath against the side of his face and every now and then Derek’s hands brushed against his thighs – which he couldn’t control, so maybe couldn’t feel either – and it made him even more nervous about getting both of them out safely._

_He lowered the grip he had on the alpha, until his arms were pretty much around Derek’s hips and he tried to push the man over the edge of the pool. It was a lot easier said than done, considering Derek and his muscles weighted a ton. At least._

_Stiles went under the water himself in the progress, and did not give up until  he had to come up to gasp for air._

_“Wait, let me just,” Stiles mumbled as he lowered his hands even further until they were beneath Derek’s ass._

_“Stiles!” he warned, his voice sounding low and dangerous; almost like a snarl. So apparently, he could still feel it indeed. Stiles pulled back and kept his arms around Derek’s torso again._

_“What?” he retorted, just for the sake of arguing because it was what the two of them did best, “would you rather stay here until you can get your own ass out of here?”_

_Derek grunted at the mention of his ass and rolled his eyes for good measure, than argued it wasn’t safe because who knew how long it would take for the snake-like shapeshifter to be back._

_“Alright,” Stiles agreed, already lowering his hands as he spoke, “so this is the only way to do it.”_

_With his hands below Derek once more, he pushed with all of his power – which wasn’t much at all – again until Derek was out of the water far enough to be tumbled over the edge._

_Stiles quickly crawled out after him and let his body fall down right next to the alpha, panting loudly. Both of them were just lying there, staring up at the high ceiling as their shoulders were pressed together; Derek because he didn’t really have another choice, and Stiles because he was too drained of energy to move._

_“Thanks,” Derek murmured, and although his voice was soft, Stiles was sure it was sincere either way._

_“No problem,” he shrugged easily. All he had done was keep Derek’s head above the surface; it really was no biggie. “You weren’t all_ that _heavy.”_

_“You could’ve let me drown to safe yourself,” Derek elaborated and for the first time since Stiles had met him, he didn’t sound annoyed while talking to him._

_“It would’ve made sense,” Derek continued and Stiles rolled over so that he was on his side, facing the alpha, “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”_

_“That’s bullshit Derek,” Stiles gaped at him stupidly, “I’d never let an innocent person die. I thought you had figured that out by now.”_

_Stiles looked down at the alpha, who was opening himself up to Stiles and was vulnerable now that he couldn’t move anything but his head. It would be so easy to reach out and touch him, kiss him even maybe, since Derek wouldn’t be able to swat him away anyways. He had always wondered what that would be like._

_His hair was flat due to it being wet and Stiles preferred it when it was styled and there was a little too much gel in it, but it still was a damn good look on the guy. The way his clothes were sticking to his body and his light grey shirt was slightly see through made it hard for Stiles to tare his eyes away. He was blatantly staring, and he didn’t give two shits about it._

_“Stiles,” Derek mumbled, looking at him with an expression Stiles didn’t remember seeing on him before, and furrowed his brows at the werewolf._

_“What is it?”_

_“Do you think you could-“_

_Stiles cut the man off by rolling further so that half of his body was on top of Derek’s paralyzed one and their faces were close enough for Stiles to lean in and actually kiss him before he could change his mind. So he did._

_For a second, it seemed as if the alpha’s face was then paralyzed as well, for he didn’t kiss back but didn’t growl at him to get Stiles off either and Stiles had no idea what to do with that._

_His hand, without his brain even registering it, came up to cup Derek’s cheek as he continued to kiss him. That’s when the man below him finally responded and kissed back gently._

_“I meant to ask if you could get us out of here, since the kanima might come back,” Derek chuckled nervously the moment Stiles pulled away from him to look down at his eyes and stroke a hand through his drying hair._

_“Oh, right, I should-“_

_“No, kiss me again,” Derek ordered him in the same voice he used to order his betas around and, fuck if that actually did it for Stiles._

_He leaned down and kissed the alpha harder and with a little more confidence this time around. He licked across the man’s bottom lip carefully while trying not to freak out over the fact that he was kissing Derek Hale, out of all people._

_Derek opened up for him right away however and let out a soft, content hum at the feeling of their tongues clashing together for the first time. It soothed all of Stiles’ worries._

_He ran his free hand up and down the man’s side, knowing very well he was able to feel it, and was mesmerized by the feeling of divine muscles beneath his fingers. The hand that was cupping Derek’s face moved down to his shoulder, and his mouth traced the path his hand had made, kissing down his jaw and neck only to stop at the soft spot just below his ear where he left a dirty, open-mouthed kiss._

_Derek groaned at the feeling and Stiles knew for certain it was a positive groan this time around, so he just kept going._

_“Stiles,” the guy below him whined after a little while, and he didn’t even need to say more for Stiles to understand he wanted his mouth back at his own. And he was more than happy to obey._

_Mere seconds passed before Derek seemed to have reclaimed control over his own body, and as soon as he did, his hands came to rake – carefully, but still pretty rough – over the back of  Stiles back while simultaneously pushing him down so they were even closer to each other. He held Stiles down as he rocked his hips up, and the youngest gasped at the feeling of the alpha’s erection against his hipbone before he smirked down at him and kissing him with even more enthusiasm than before._

_“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek growled, pushing his hips up again, harder and this time they were aligned in such a way that their crotches were rubbing together deliciously, shooting bolts of pleasure up Stiles’ spine._

_“Oh my god,” he started to pant, his lips still so close that they brushed against the alpha’s with every word he babbled and he couldn’t get over how incredibly intimate that felt._

_Derek’s right hand moved down to cup Stiles’ ass and squeeze a little, pushing him down in the same time as he thrusted up. The boy closed his eyes and moaned embarrassedly loud, his erection getting uncomfortable and even a little painful from where it was straining against his jeans. In the meantime, the werewolf’s left hand came up to grab the back of his neck, keeping him in place as he kissed him filthily, licking into his mouth and nibbling on his bottom lip. It hurt just enough to get Stiles even closer to the edge._

_“Jesus,” the boy groaned into Derek’s mouth at another particular powerful thrust._

_“Yeah, like that? “Derek asked around a smug smirk, going faster now that it was obvious Stiles was not going to last much longer._

_“Fuck, yeah,” he panted helplessly as he let Derek rub against him freely._

_“Are you gonna come, Stiles?” he asked, his voice dipping a little lower than it usually did and that would’ve been it, if it weren’t for the sudden loud noise that filled the entire pool._

_“What the fuck is_ that _?” Stiles groaned in frustration, rolling off of Derek and looking around to figure out where the sound was coming from. It reminded him of something, sounded way too familiar for his liking, but he had no idea what it could possibly be._

_“Isn’t that your phone?” the alpha pointed out, sounding just as irritated as Stiles felt, and, yeah, it definitely was his phone._

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered as his eyes shot open in realisation, the sound of his phone blaring from where it was lying on Stiles’ nightstand like a cruel replacement of an alarm on Saturday morning – for fuck’s sake. His head was hurting like a bitch, and the loud noise made him realize he was _definitely_ experiencing a huge hangover.

The boy then noticed his face was pretty much jammed into his pillow and his erection extremely hard in between his stomach and his mattress, and he was pretty sure he had been rutting down against it while he had been dreaming about getting off against a certain, incredibly hot alpha.

 

Fuck.

 

Stiles was considering whether he should continue getting himself off first, now that the imagines of his dream were still fresh in his mind, or whether he should answer his phone.

Usually, when someone called at an inconvenient time like this one, it was because the caller was either dying or had accidentally killed someone or -thing. So, there really was no way he could just ditch his phone in favour of have a mind-blowing orgasm; Scott would be so disappointed in him if he’d find out.

Stiles groaned in frustration, hoisted himself up and reached for his phone, but it stopped ringing before he had even managed to grab it.

“Huh,” he mumbled surprised, looking at his phone as if it would start ringing again within ten seconds.

When it didn’t, he rolled over until he was on his back and staring up at the ceiling, his hand already lowering and creeping beneath the waistband of his boxers. He took a deep breath as he grabbed the base of his cock and started working his hand on it quickly, granting himself little time as he chased his orgasm. He came embarrassingly fast, with his eyes squeezed shut and Derek’s name on   the tip of his tongue.

 

Yeah, this definitely was going to become a thing.

 

## ***

 

Once he was done getting his breathing back to normal and he had taken a long, hot shower – where he may or may not have been having a little ‘special Stiles time’ again, imagining being shoved into the tiles by someone much broader and stronger than him – Stiles grabbed his phone to see who it was who had called him earlier that morning.

He found he didn’t actually have one missed call, but seven. One from Scott, which had been this morning when he had been woken up from the best dream ever, and six from… From Derek.

Four of them had been yesterday night – after Stiles apparently called him first, _huh_ – and two quite early in the morning. The thought of Derek calling him this many times in such a short amount of time hurt Stiles’ head even more, and with his phone in his hand, he walked down the stairs to have some breakfast and find himself some painkillers.

 

He decided to call Scott back first because he really could not handle calling Derek right now and Scott would probably barge into his home if he didn’t answer quick enough either way.

 

“Yo, Scotty,” he greeted into his phone right after swallowing a bunch of pills to get rid of his headache. He was pretty sure some memories of the night before had left his body along with the alcohol he had consumed, but that was mostly the part of how he got home and he did not care that much about it.

“Isaac and Derek are gone,” Scott said, instead of a ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’, and Stiles hated when he did that. Because it always meant something serious was going on, something that was enough to make a werewolf like Scott nervous.

“What do you mean gone?” Stiles asked, because he was much better at coming up with plans, and he needed all the information in order to do so. He refused to acknowledge he could hear the slight panic in his own voice, and figured that if Scott had heard it, he’d think it was because of the general situation and not because _Derek was gone._

“Isaac wasn’t here when I woke up and Derek hasn’t answered any of my calls. I can still sense them so they aren’t dead or very far away, but I’m still worried.”

“Okay, so we go and search for them,” Stiles said plainly, already grabbing a bowl and his cheerios to have a quick breakfast before he had to go of and safe a bunch of people _again_.

“Right,” Scott agreed although he still sounded a little unsure, “so where do we start?”

“Derek’s loft,” Stiles answered within a heartbeat. It was so obvious, how come Scott didn’t think about it?

“Already been there,” Scott sighed at him through the phone, “he isn’t there.”

“What about Peter?”

“Isn’t there either.”

“So he’s gone too?” Stiles asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose as Scott mumbled something along the lines of not really caring about him.

“Alright. I suggest we still go there though, look for clues.”

“I’ll meet you there in ten?” Scott asked, sounding hopeful all of a sudden, obviously relieved he had some help in this.

“Make it fifteen,” Stiles answered him as he poured his milk in his bowl, “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

His best friend the werewolf groaned at the other side of the line and Stiles couldn’t help but smirk at that.

“Alright. We’ll see you in fifteen.”

 

And of course Stiles should’ve known Allison would tag along as well.

 _Of course_ Stiles wasn’t the one Scott called first, even though he always ended up needing him anyways. He knew he was supposed to be disappointed by his friend, but the guy was so smitten, Stiles was pretty sure he literally couldn’t help it at this point.

“Okay, so when have you last heard from either one of them?” Stiles asked as the stepped into the loft together, Allison with her crossbow ready in case someone – or something – evil was still lurking around to hurt whoever came to search for the alpha.

“Isaac last night before we went to sleep, obviously,” Scott pointed out, “and Derek when he called to let me know he was taking you home a couple of days ago.”

“Alright,” Stiles nodded, warmth spreading through his chest a little at the realization the alpha had literally taken care of everything for him back then.

“So, do you smell anything weird? Like fear or blood or –” he paused as he looked around a little nervously, “or death?”

“No,” Scott shook his head while his nose was still in the air, sniffing carefully.

“I do feel like whoever was here last was worried, but it could’ve well just been me when I came looking for Derek an hour ago.”

Stiles nodded, then continued to look around. The loft looked neat, clean and not at all like some sort of battle had taken place; so at least the wolves had left voluntarily.

“Is Derek’s car still here?”

Allison looked out the window and nodded at him the moment her eyes landed on the black Camaro and all three of them continued to look around with frowns on their faces while they thought of an possible explanation for the wolves’ disappearance.

 

“So, what now?” Scott asked, even though he should know a lot better where to find his alpha than the two humans did. Stiles, always the man with the plan, shrugged and suggested they’d go to the woods and the old Hale house to check it out.

While driving there, Scott tried calling all three missing wolves again, but without any luck.

 

They walked around the burnt down house and roamed the woods, Scott sniffing around which reminded Stiles of the time where he still had asthma-attacks every now and then.

Stiles felt useless as he trailed behind the hunter who could track footsteps and the werewolf who had been able to catch a scent, wishing there was more he could do.

He could feel the dread of Derek being missing starting to spread all through his body, aching his muscles from how tense he was and hurting his head to no end. The hangover was now replaced by concern, and he wished he could just go back to the hangover because that would make his life at least seventy percent easier.

“Do you think we can find them?” Stiles asked no one in particular as Scott kept walking in a certain direction like he knew exactly where he was going. The frown on his face told Stiles the opposite however.

“I am not sure. The scent is weak; they must have been here hours ago. Also, there are a lot of other scents so it’s hard to follow.”

“I just don’t get how Isaac is gone too,” Allison sighed, “Derek and Peter, I get that. But Isaac sleeps in the same house as you do. If he has been taken by someone, why did they leave you, and if he just left on his own, why didn’t he tell you first?”

Stiles and Scott both shrugged; they had already thought of that as well. It didn’t make any sense. None of this did.

 

Stiles jolted to a sudden halt when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket, and almost dropped it with how quickly he tried to retrieve it from aforementioned pocket. The tiny spark of hope he had felt left just as quick as it had come when he noticed it was ‘just’ Erica who was calling him – which, first of all, since _when_ did she have his number, second of all, _how_ had she gotten it and third, why was _she_ calling him, out of all people?

“Y’ello?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He didn’t need werewolf abilities to know she was rolling her eyes at him as she sighed.

“Do you know where Derek is?” is all she said, ignoring all social rules when it came to calling someone. Maybe it was a shapeshifter’s thing.

“No. How would _I_ know?”

“You know why,” she said, the usual shred of a smirk noticeable in the sound of her voice.

“I don’t. And I don’t know where he is either,” Stiles replied persistently; his head hurt too much to deal with Erica’s nonsense anyways.

The boy locked eyes with Scott in a silent question and once the werewolf nodded at him, he told Erica they were currently looking for him, as well as Peter and Isaac.

“Isaac’s gone too?” she asked, sounding at least three times as worried as she did before. Stiles could hear Boyd saying somewhere far away and then heard Erica humming softly.

“We’ll be there in five,” was all she said before the line went dead. Stiles stared at his phone in confusion, but knew better than to question it.

 

## ***

 

It was getting dark out when the entire Hale pack – minus the three missing members – were still out in the woods, sniffing trees, following tracks and looking worried as fuck. Stiles hated it. Lydia was off somewhere on her own, her hands tracing down a tree while Jackson stayed close to her to make sure she wouldn’t go missing as well, and Stiles knew it was best to just leave her to it. She had a weird way of figuring things out but it worked more times than not, so no one ever mentioned it.

 

“I smell blood,” Boyd, who had said less then five words all day, said and everybody hurried to where he was standing to see if they could find any of the blood all werewolves suddenly seemed to smell.

Jackson and Lydia joined them not even a minute later and the strawberry-blonde girl immediately crouched down to shove some leaves aside to reveal a patch of blood on the roots of a tree. She reached out to touch it and Stiles quickly grabbed her arm to stop her, which caused Jackson to growl at him.

“Do you know who’s blood it is?” Stiles asked Boyd, successfully ignoring the other werewolf’s threat as he let go of Lydia.

“No,” he answered, “it’s not one of ours.”

All other wolves nodded in agreement which felt like half the world was lifted off of Stiles’ shoulder. This meant they were still no closer to finding Derek – and Peter and Isaac – however, hence the weight of the other half of the world. 

 

Stiles looked around, combing a hand through his messy hair in frustration as he tried to come up with a different strategy. They were never going to find the rest of their pack with the little scavenger hunt they had going on, and too many hours had passed since they had started already.

Stiles didn’t even want to think about how much damage could have been done to the three wolves by now, how much harm could have come to them in all those hours.

 

All of a sudden, Lydia gasped and Stiles looked down to see her with her fingers touching the dried up blood on the ground for real this time, looking around the group that had gathered around her with huge, (gorgeous) eyes.

“We need to go to the loft,” she said, sounding so damn sure of herself the rest _had_ to believe her.

“Okay,” Scott was the first to agree out loud. He already turned to hurry to where they had parked their cars and his bike and everyone followed without as much as a single word.

Stiles really hoped Lydia’s weird revelation would get them anywhere, because by now, multiple groups of people had been at the alpha’s place five times already and none of them had found a single clue as to where the wolves could possibly be.

 

The pack risked multiple extremely overprized speeding tickets as they tried to get at Derek’s place as quickly as possible and all but ran up the stairs once they got there, the wolves reaching Derek’s floor without breaking a sweat while Lydia, Allison and Stiles came up a while later, panting and clutching their sides from the effort of it. Hadn’t Derek been supernatural, Stiles would’ve definitely advised him to buy a place with an elevator next time.

They hadn’t even touched the metal door yet when the sound of laughter was audible even to human ears and a huge, collective sigh of relief filled the hallway; it was Isaac. (Obviously, since the last name Hale and the act of laughing or showing any sign of joy didn’t mix all that well.)

 

Stiles pushed passed the wolves, shoving Jackson aside a little harder than maybe necessary, and opened the door.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?” he demanded to know as he stepped into the loft, stalking straight towards the living room where the three wolves were seated, looking like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred that day.

It was only when he was within an arm’s reach that Stiles noticed the cuts and scratches all over their bodies and the holes in their dirty, muddy clothes.

“What happened?” he asked, already reaching out to touch Derek’s cheek which had two pretty significant cuts on it. The alpha grunted and turned his head out of Stiles’ reach but the boy just took another step closer and held onto his face to inspect the wounds, causing some of the betas around them to snort at the sight.

Derek would’ve done the same to him, Stiles knew for sure, and he couldn’t care less who was alpha and who was not.

“It’s nothing, Stiles,” Derek all but hissed but he didn’t swat Stiles’ hands away so the boy counted that as a win. In the meantime, Scott was doing pretty much the same to Isaac while nobody dared to get close enough to Peter to check on him.

“It is,” he argued stubbornly, feeling the relief he had previously felt being replaced by concern all over, “you’re supposed to heal. Why aren’t you healing?”

“It was an alpha,” Derek shrugged simply, then shivered as Stiles carefully traced the skin right next to the biggest cut of two with his fingers.

 

“What happened?”

It was Erica who asked this time, and Stiles would never admit he felt a little offended when the alpha did answer her while he had pretty much ignored him when he had asked.

“Peter smelled another wolf in our territory.”

The boy wordlessly took the wet cloth Lydia handed him and started dabbing at Derek’s face, who growled at him. There was no real heat behind it, though. Stiles knew it wasn’t actually at him either, but rather at the sting of it, so he just kept going until the wound was clean enough. There was no use in bandaging it, because even though it took longer this time, it would still heal on its own eventually. Nevertheless, Stiles felt a lot better about it now that it was clean, so he grabbed Derek’s hand and held his arm up so that he could clean all of the other wounds on him as well.

He felt a bit less embarrassed about it when he noticed Allison and Lydia were both doing it to the other two wolves too, figured he wasn’t the only overprotective one in the loft.

“It was an alpha from out of town,” Peter added, since Derek’s answer did not really explain anything whatsoever.

 

Derek huffed as he tried to pry his arm from Stiles’ grip and they both knew very well that if the alpha actually wanted it, he’d be free by now; so the boy wordlessly continued taking care of the gaping wounds. They weren’t as deep as the ones Stiles had been tortured with and they’d recover for sure but they still looked painful and like they needed to be worried about.

“We don’t know what he wanted,” Isaac continued to tell the story, hissing a little when Allison accidently pressed too hard against the wound near his neck, “but there was a fight and eventually he left.”

“I don’t think he’s much of a threat, but you need to be careful either way,” Derek said, his warm breath hitting the side of Stiles’ face because of how close they were and his eyes on him even though the warning was obviously directed towards all of his pack.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Scott asked after a long moment of silence had passed and all three humans were done cleaning the wounds on the wolves.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys,” Derek shrugged as if he had no idea how stupid that made him sound. _Of course_ they were going to worry about their alpha being gone.

“You brought Isaac,” Scott argued, raising his eyebrows at the older man, “you could’ve at least let _me_ come along as well; we live at the same place anyways.”

Derek pressed his mouth into a thin line and looked away, out of the window at nothing in particular.

“You are our _alpha,_ Derek,” Erica joined the discussion, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “you can’t just disappear on us.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Derek growled at her, “just trust me when I say I did it to protect you.”

Peter snorted at that, grinning at his nephew in a way that never led to anything but chaos while he let out an exaggerated sigh.

“You mean ‘to protect Stiles’, right?” he said, feigning innocence as he looked from Derek to Stiles and back to the alpha, who was avoiding all nine sets of eyes on him.

“What? Isn’t that why you didn’t want Scott to know?” Peter continued nonchalantly, “so that he could stay behind and keep an eye on Stiles?”

Stiles felt his entire face heating up at that, but couldn’t tare his eyes away from the alpha who grit his teeth; not even if his life depended on it.

 

“Get out,” the alpha commanded calm yet authoritive once Peter was done, reminding Stiles of the Erica incident all over again. He was looking at his uncle as he said it, but it was clear as day he meant everyone.

No one moved a muscle however, and Derek looked around the room with an angry scowl on his face.

“Get out, all of you!” he roared this time. All his betas shivered at the sound of it, and that’s when everybody hurried out of the loft, including Peter who was still smirking like some scary, evil mastermind; as if everything was still going exactly according the plan.

 

“Not you,” Derek huffed as he grabbed Stiles’ upper arm tightly the moment he passed him, stopping him dead in his track.

 

“We need to talk.”


	8. Together making one

His brain was running a million miles an hour while Stiles watched the entire pack make their way out of the loft as quickly as possible - minus Peter, who was taking his sweet time, the _asshole_ –, none of them even looking at Stiles who was still held back by the almost painful grip on his arm. It would surely leave yet another bruise, but at this point Stiles didn’t really care about those anymore. There was so much he had to hide from his dad and schoolmates already; it didn’t really matter whether it were just nine painful marks or ten.

Derek held onto his arm all the while the door slammed shut and footsteps disappeared from Stiles’ earshot, and he wondered how much longer he would have to wait for the pack to be out of the alpha’s hearing range. In the meantime, Stiles turned his head to look at the man’s concentrated face, wondering what was so important that it could only be discussed between the two of them.

 

He flinched a little as Derek scowled at nothing in particular and then  growled his uncle’s name lowly, apparently threatening him to get the hell out of the apartment building so he wasn’t able to eavesdrop.

The wolf looked at him with a frown on his face, glanced down at where he was still holding on to him and as realisation hit him, quickly let go.

“Sorry,” he muttered as Stiles rubbed at the sore spot and looked down at the floor instead of at the boy in front of him.

“Nah, it’s alright,” the youngest shrugged uneasily. It was one of those rare occasions where he had no idea what to say, and it terrified him to no end.

 

Stiles observed Derek as he looked around helplessly, all the while skilfully avoiding Stiles’ eyes and opening and closing his mouth a couple of times like a fish out of the water.

He started all of three sentences, but didn’t utter much more than five words in all those attempts combined. Stiles watched him as he desperately tried to string a single sentence together, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly in the process and he had to fight the urge to sigh and roll his eyes at the wolf dramatically.

Wasn’t he supposed to be an alpha, a leader; someone who was able to make decisions in a fraction of second, no matter the situation? Until now, Stiles had always believed Derek was just that.

This time, however, not so much.

 

Stiles shifted his weight from one hip to the other and folded his arms in front of his chest when the eldest finally looked at him, raising both of his eyebrows unimpressed as his fingers impatiently tapped against his upper arm.

“Are you going to say something, or should I just come back tomorrow?” he questioned, his sarcasm finally coming back to him now that his patience – and most of his nervousness – had worn off.

 

Derek scowled at him, huffed out a breath of annoyance and grit his teeth visibly but it didn’t impress Stiles like it would have a week ago. He had gotten to know Derek, knew he’d never hurt him, and therefor wasn’t as easily put off by the big, bad wolf in front of him.

The alpha opened his mouth again, said as much as a simple ‘ _I’_  and then sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly as he dropped it again.

“Jesus, Derek; just _spit it out already_ ,” Stiles groaned as he flailed his arms for good measure. He was seconds away from just storming passed the wolf and out of the building himself when Derek looked at him with a new found determination, his brows furrowed together like they seemed to be at least ninety percent of the time.

 

It seemed as if something had suddenly clicked in place in his mind and Derek only just realised that he was _Derek Hale, Alpha werewolf of Beacon Hills,_ and apparently, that was all the encouragement it took for him to straighten his stance and lock his certain eyes with Stiles. The sight of it was mesmerizing and a only a tiny bit intimidating.

However, the alpha _still_ hadn’t uttered a single significant word so far so Stiles figured he needed one last shove into the right direction.

“If you’re not gonna _say_ anything in the next five seconds, I am so-“

 

His words were cut of by Derek closing the small distance between them impossibly fast, yanking him forward by the fist in his shirt like he had done so often before, Stiles had lost count ages ago. But this time it wasn’t for growling or intimidating the human with only his thick, angry eyebrows, but to actually, honest-to-god, _kiss him_.

 

Stiles knees buckled a little from the shock of it all, and his hands helplessly reached out to hold onto Derek’s side, pulling him even closer so that their chests were firmly pressed together. He whined a little into the kiss because, _fuck,_ he had been dreaming about this for days. Well, technically it had been way longer, but the original dreams had mostly consisted of hot, meaningless sex whereas his current dreams did also involve passionate, breath-taking yet soft and gentle kisses. And also sweaty, headboard-thumping and bed-breaking intercourse, because he was still a teenage boy after all, but whatever. It meant something more now; Stiles was sure of it.

 

The tight, almost violent grip on the boy’s shirt disappeared somewhere halfway into the kiss, and instead, Derek brought his hands up to carefully cup his cheeks, both sides of his face completely enclosed by the wolf’s warm, strong hands as their lips slid together like they had been doing this for _years_ instead of mere seconds.

 

The eldest was the first to pull away, his eyes scanning Stiles’ face for any sign of discomfort, his grip on the boy’s cheeks falling away as if he gave him a change to run off and never come back. Like he gave him an easy way out.

Stiles scoffed at him and leaned up to peck his lips sweetly, telling him without words he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

“Care to elaborate?” the human asked nonetheless as he let his forehead bump into Derek’s – which wasn’t supposed to hurt, but did either way thanks to his damned clumsiness – and stared into his eyes. He studied them extensively for he had never seen them from this close and this open before; it was like looking into them for the very first time. _Beautiful_ was the only conclusion that came to mind and Stiles didn’t grasp how he’d never realized that until last week’s events.

 

“You called me,” Derek muttered, his eyes flickering between Stiles’ and his lip, which were surely shiny from their combined spit. Which sounded gross in his mind but turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Stiles pushed the thought aside in order to frown at the wolf in confusion, because this did not explain anything _at all_.

“Last night,” Derek smiled a little, apparently noticing the way Stiles’ heartbeat had staggered, “when you were drunk of your ass.”

The boy bit his lip to prevent gaping at the man and swallowed nervously, because, _hell_ , everybody knew a drunk-arse-over-tits phone call could never go over well; especially when there were unresolved feelings involved.

“Did I-“ he started, not really sure where he was even going with this himself, “did I say something about liking you?”

 

Somehow, that question wasn’t as scary as it maybe should have been. But then again, Derek freakin’ Hale had _kissed him_ , so he had to at least like him a little too. Right?

 

The small smile on the wolf’s lips turned into a full-blown, teeth-showing grin as he shook his head carefully, their foreheads still pressed together. Stiles was aware of the man’s warm breath against his chin and hoped the werewolf wasn’t able to smell the peanut butter sandwich he had hours ago, despite knowing fully well even a human would probably be able to smell it had they been as close as Derek was now.

“No,” he said, completely clueless to the worries in Stiles’ brain, “you said something about falling in love with me, actually.”

 

Stiles eyes grew almost twice in size as he took a rushed step back, nearly tripping over his own feet. The thought of _falling in love_ with Derek hadn’t even crossed his – sober – mind yet, but apparently he had already told the alpha that much. And hearing him say it this easily, like he had already gotten used to idea of Stiles _falling in love_ with him, was scarier than any of his scowls or growls could ever be.

Sure, Stiles was very attracted to the guy - inside and outside - and he probably had the biggest crush on him. But wasn’t it way too early to mention the word _love_?

 

“Stiles,” Derek frowned at him, stepping forward and carefully wrapping an arm around his torso, pulling the boy back into his space, leaning in to kiss him once more. And Stiles wanted to let him, he really, _really_ did, but his chest was growing tight and his heart was beating too fast while he tried to keep breathing properly.

Worry clouded the wolf’s eyes, which admittedly was a sight Stiles had seen before, but until this day Derek had always tried to hide it, had always covered it up by a scowl or an annoyed huff.

“Stiles,” Derek muttered again, softer this time; gentler. He leaned in ever so slowly, eyeing Stiles carefully but then, when he didn’t pull away from him or give him any sign of discomfort, connected their lips again, kissing all of his worries away.

 

 “It’s okay”, he told him when he pulled away only an inch or so, their lips brushing with every syllable he spoke, “I am falling in love with you too.”

                                                                                                                                   

## ***

 

Both of their lips were kiss-swollen, their hair completely dishevelled from where their hands had roamed and gripped and pulled and their shirts wrinkled from pushing their hands beneath it or pulling the other closer, always closer. Stiles was even spotting a neat love bite just above the curve of his collar bone which his shirt wasn’t quite able to cover up completely. It was yet another mark he’d have to try and hide, and Stiles was so damn okay with that.

 

The two of them were seated on the couch which had served as Stiles’ bed a few days prior, playing with each other’s fingers just to touch and talking about nothing significant. The human’s mouth run a mile an hour as he talked about the latest movie he had watched and Finstock’s bizarre speech from the other day, Scott’s ridiculous tactics of wooing Allison even though they were already practically married and how his dad had definitely eaten fast food every day Stiles had been at Derek’s place.

The alpha spend most of his time listening to the boy and rolling his eyes but he seemed to do so happily, so Stiles was pretty content at the moment. He’d probably get Derek to open up some more in the days to come; there was no rush.

 

Both men dodged the most important subject of all, which was what had really happened that afternoon.

The question was burning at the back of Stiles’ throat and he knew it was more than just a little stand off with some unknown alpha. The wounds he had cleaned on Derek still weren’t healed completely, though the human knew it wouldn’t take much longer than a few hours, judging by how much better they already looked.

Stiles didn’t push it though, because he trusted the alpha enough to know he’d tell him if he deemed it necessary and because it would obviously ruin this perfect moment of pure bliss.

 

When Derek offered him another killer smile, Stiles couldn’t really help himself. He groaned at the sight of it as he leaned in and smashed their lips together again, his hand creeping up to stroke the soft hairs at the nape of the wolf’s neck as Derek kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm. That was probably the thing that baffled the teen the most: how much Derek wanted him. _Him._

 

He was just a small, weak, annoying, bat-swinging human who was completely useless compared to a freakin’ werewolf. And besides his lack of muscles or ability to defend himself against were-creatures, he was a little funny looking and his pale skin was completely covered in moles. Which, last time he checked, wasn’t really the definition of attractive.

And then there was Derek. Tall, strong, muscular and incredibly hot Derek, with his manly scruff and his bright eyes and his pearl-white teeth and his dimples and thick, brooding eyebrows. He was everything a guy – or girl, obviously – could dream of and then some.

 

Yet he wanted Stiles, was _kissing_ _Stiles_.

 

The boy let out a near-whine into the kiss as he pressed himself further into Derek’s space, who’s arms automatically wrapped around him to keep him close. The warmth of his high body-temperature seemed to burn right through Stiles’ clothes as he melted into the embrace, humming contently against his lips.

It seemed ridiculous, how quickly they had gone from pretty much hating each other to being unable to be apart for too long but Stiles figured some – unconscious – part of him had always longed to be near Derek. Whether it was because he liked how they could bicker back and forth and how the alpha was the only person Stiles’ knew who could be just as quick to answer as he was, or because he always felt a little safer with the strong werewolf around, he wasn’t sure. But he knew for certain the bond between them had always been different from the one he shared with Scott or Allison, and even Lydia.

And for someone who was always the first to figure stuff out, he was a little ashamed this had taken him so long.

 

Derek grumbled low in his throat and it sounded a little frustrated, which alarmed Stiles. He wondered if maybe the alpha could tell he was a little distracted, but he didn’t think it was fair for him to get annoyed over since the teen couldn’t really help it. He did have ADHD after all.

The boy was about to ask what was wrong when Derek glided his hand up to gently hold his neck to keep him in place and tentatively lick across his bottom lip, causing Stiles’ breath to hitch and his heart to stammer.

The eldest obviously heard it and started to pull away but Stiles just leaned in and parted his lips to allow Derek in. Their tongues brushed, and Stiles couldn’t help but think how it felt a little funny, and nothing like the human had imagined but way, _way_ better.

It felt so intimate, and he never wanted it to end.

 

And, of- _fucking_ -course, that was the moment Peter decided he had been away in order to offer the two some privacy for long enough, pulling open the metal door and grinning wickedly at the boys’ bewildered faces as they hastily pulled apart.

“Don’t mind me,” he mused way too kindly, slowly strutting towards the spiral staircase which led to his bedroom, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

He had the audacity to wink at them obnoxiously, which earned him an eye-roll from Stiles and a full-on growl from his nephew, whom he tutted at.

“That’s no way to treat your generous uncle, Derek,” he said, leaving Stiles to wonder whether he never got tired of himself, “I have been gone for three hours. You can’t expect me to stay away from my own home just because your little boy-toy is visiting.”

Stiles did stare at the man, truly amazed he had actually dared to say that about him, and Derek bared his fangs at Peter in a threatening way. But of course, his uncle wasn’t very impressed. He just grinned at the couple on the couch, shrugged and then climbed the stairs.

 

Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose and Stiles just knew the moment was officially ruined.

“I’ll take you home?” he offered. It reminded the human of when Derek had told him he was bringing him home after he had lived on the guy’s couch for days, yet nothing about those two situations was alike. Back then, Stiles had believed Derek was relieved to finally get rid of the boy, and now he was sure the alpha wanted nothing less than to part from him. The though alone made him giddy, and Stiles quickly pecked his lips one, two, three times; just because he could.

 

Derek smiled at him, but then he paled a little as he looked up at the ceiling. At first, the human was a little confused, but then he remembered about the whole supernatural-hearing-ability thing and realised Peter had probably made yet another remark about them and, yeah: he really should go home.

 

The ride home was silent, yet comfortable and Stiles couldn’t help but glance over at Derek every five seconds or so. He kept wanting to touch him, kiss him senseless maybe, but decided against it because he didn’t really fancy crashing the car, so he didn’t.

Once they had reached the Stilinski residence, they both crawled out of the car and Derek pulled him close by his shirt, just like he had done a few hours prior and kissed him hungrily, licking into his mouth like he was starving for it.

Stiles worried about his dad seeing it until Derek mumbled “he isn’t home” into the kiss. That’s when the human allowed himself to wrap his arms around the other guy’s neck tightly to keep himself upright and kiss him back with just as much need and want. When Derek leaned forward even further, Stiles’ body had little choice but to curl into the embrace, his back arched so that they’re chests were touching. It was a little uncomfortable and probably looked pretty ridiculous but felt incredibly secure.

 

Derek sucked on his bottom lip after a while, and gently nibbled on it, his human teeth careful enough not to break any skin. It had the youngest moaning into his mouth, seeing as he simply couldn’t control himself.

 

Hormonal teenager and all that shit.

 

“Jesus, Stiles,” Derek growled against his swollen lips, tightening his grip on the boy. It was nothing like the growls from before, because those had been threatening in an ‘ _I-will-kill-you-and-eat-all-of-your-organs’_ kind of way while this one was more a ‘ _I-will-rip-your-clothes-off-with-my-teeth-if-you-don’t-stop’_  kind of growl. And it turned Stiles on way more than he ever thought it would. Way more than was appropriate too, probably, with them being in the middle of a pavement and all that.

“I swear half of the pack must’ve heard that,” the wolf continued, though he didn’t sound like he minded it all that much. In fact, Stiles almost got the feeling like Derek actually liked that thought – a lot. It would make sense, seeing he was a possessive kind of guy who liked to show off every change he got. Including Stiles, apparently.

“Yeah?” Stiles questioned innocently, kissing down the wolf’s jaw and neck, only stopping to experimentally suck on the soft skin of his jugular.

“That would be pretty hot, don’t you think?” he mumbled against the sensitive spot below the other guy’s ear, the feeling of brushing lips and his warm breath enough to raise goosebumps. 

“Shut up,” Derek groaned.

 

He didn’t mean it at all, if the way he kept kissing Stiles until their lungs gave out was any indication.

 

## ***

 

“Holy shit, _dude!”_ Scott hissed the moment Stiles stepped foot into the hallways of Beacon Hills High School on Monday morning, “you reek!”

Stiles did his best to blink as innocent as possible at his best friend, but one look at the werewolf’s squinted nose told him it was completely useless.

He should’ve know he’d smell like the alpha after spending an entire Sunday together, after touching every inch of him and letting him touch him wherever and whenever he wanted.

 

They hadn’t gone much further than kissing _yet_ , but there had been a hell of a lot of cuddling and eventually Stiles had ended up draped over the wolf’s strong chest, as if having a 170 pounds teenager on top of his lungs didn’t obstruct his ability to properly breath at all. Derek had just grinned at him and hooked his arms around his body to keep him from leaving any time soon, had kissed the corner of his mouth before contently staring up at the ceiling. Stiles, in the meantime, had petted the guy’s stubble and played with the hairs of his eyebrows, had traced his sharp cheekbones and counted his eyelashes for the soil reason of ‘because I can’. 

They had spent almost an hour bickering over whether Stiles was allowed to continue calling him ‘dude’ afterwards – Stiles had won – which had probably been the cheesiest, most cliché Romcom thing to ever happen to either one of them. And he had loved every single second of it.

 

“Is Derek here?” Isaac asked, pulling Stiles from his train of thoughts successfully. The beta was completely oblivious as he lifted his nose into the air and sniffed, which Stiles couldn’t help but roll his eyes at fondly. The poor guy still didn’t have the whole scent-smelling-thing down yet and it was completely adorable; at least there was still one wolf Stiles could mess with from time to time.

Lydia just deadpanned the guy and without saying as much as one word pulled at Stiles’ collar, revealing the purple bruise Derek had created two days prior.

“Oh my _god_ , Lydia,” Stiles exclaimed as he did his best to glare evilly at her while simultaneously trying to pull his shirt – and therefor his dignity – back. But most of the damage has already been done since Lydia was smirking knowingly at him, Isaac, Scott and Jackson were pretty much gaping like he had just admitted to being a leather-wearing dominatrix with whips and handcuffs or whatever, while Allison was trying to hide her giggle behind her hand. Stiles decided he liked her most, from now on.

 

“So,” Scott tried to say, looking slightly uncomfortable as he pointed at his best friend, “you’re with _Derek_?”

The young wolf started to grin then, laughed at Stiles when he didn’t reply, and all but screeched, “oh my god, you are dating _Derek Hale_. Holy shit, dude.”

And obviously Stiles was glad Scott wasn’t mad at him for hogging his alpha or whatever, but being made fun of wasn’t much better either, really.

“I am not really _dating_ him, I guess…” he flailed helplessly, muttering the words down at the ground and feeling incredibly small all of a sudden. Derek and him hadn’t really talked much, per se, so Stiles still had no idea what exactly was going on himself.

 

And _of-fucking-course_ that was the exact moment both Erica and Boyd rounded the corner, their eyes narrowing in on Stiles as they walked up to the teenage pack. Having werewolves trot up to him would never not be extremely intimidating and the human simply couldn’t help it when his hands nervously started playing with the strings of his hoodie, wishing Derek were here to hide behind. The alpha would’ve probably long silenced his betas by simply flashing his red eyes or baring his fangs, and Stiles wondered if video taping it and then playing it to the wolves would have the same effect.

 

“So does this mean we’ve gotta call you ‘mum’ now?” Erica asked innocently, satisfied smirk on her face as she probably realized she had a whole new arsenal of ways to mess with Stiles. Who, by the way, still hadn’t really forgiven her for scaring the living crap out of him a few days prior. But since Derek had already made it _pretty_ clear she had been way out of line, he didn’t feel the need to say anything about that as well. Instead he just fixed her a look and threatened he’d take the Camaro for a spin, damage its paintwork and tell her precious alpha that it had been her who had done it.

“And we both knew who he’d believe,” he added smugly, his fingers brushing over the fabric which was now covering his love bite again mindlessly.

Lydia’s eyes followed the movement and winked at him, leaving him with bright purple cheeks as he pulled his fingers away like they had just been burned.

 

Stiles sent a little thank-you prayer up at the high-school gods above when the bell rang, grabbed Scott’s wrist and pulled his werewolf arse to their homeroom as quickly as possible, eager to get away from it all.

Having Scott in the same class meant there would probably still be a lot of questions and jokes – Stiles figured he had it coming after all the times he had whined about how much he _hated_ Derek’s guts – but his best friend was nowhere near as bad as the rest of their pack. Stiles could handle it.

 

“So,” the beta whispered once they were in the safety of the back of homeroom, looking at his best friends curiously, “you really weren’t kidding then, when you asked whether you were attractive to gay guys or not?”

Stiles snorted at him, because _of course_ this would be the first question Scotty would ask, and then shrugged meaninglessly.

“I might be only into Derek,” he whispered back, avoiding the wolf’s eyes, “I mean, I’ve never really been attracted to any other dude, so…”

Scott frowned at that, which didn’t make much sense until he all but whined, saying: “not to me either?”

Stiles flashed the guy his best grin, but shook his head nevertheless, “sorry, buddy.”

 

“But I thought you hated Derek? You were always saying how I should at least consider letting him die and stuff.”

“Yeah, well, but that’s because…” he trailed off, looking around as if searching for a satisfactory answer and taking a deep breath as he wondered how honest he should be.

“I have just always been attracted to his looks and I hated the rest of him. And not even everything about him, I guess, because obviously he’s a good leader and really strong and kinda smart. Plus, he really did look out for you, even if it were in his own, dubious ways.”

Scott nodded, seemingly understanding his rambling, so he continued.

“I just hated how he always meant trouble. Like, wherever he was, there was death and destruction and creepy were-monsters or psychotic hunters, you know? And it just took me a while to realize it was because he was one of the few willing to _fight_ it; because he was following evil in order to destroy it and not because it was after him.”

Stiles wondered if he actually made much sense, but Scott had known him long enough to simply get his train of thoughts even when he didn’t himself.

“And then you were forced to spend time at his place and to let him take care of you,” Scott pointed out helpfully, which Stiles could only nod and shrug at.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure how it – or rather _they_ – could’ve happened so fast either; just knew it did.

 

## ***

 

“No!” Stiles argued, pointing at the strawberry-blonde stubbornly, “we are not going to Jamba Juice _again!”_

Jackson rolled his eyes, knowing very well his girlfriend would find a way to change the minds of the entire pack in no time, as he slammed his locker shut. Boyd was leaning against his own, which was coincidentally right next to the former-kanima, while the rest stood in half a circle around them, discussing their hang-out spot for the afternoon. When they first started hanging out, they often went to Scott or Stiles’ place but Mumma McCall was fed up with the claws and the fangs by now and Poppa Stilinski didn’t even know about those yet.

“Well, I am not eating another Burger King salad,” she shot back just as fierce, “those things have more calories in them than the burgers and fries do – combined.”

“Than just _eat a burger!_ ” Stiles cried, raising his voice a little in frustration.

 

Erica rolled her eyes at the two and started to make her way towards the entrance. Because if no one would make the first move to get out of the school, they’d probably stay there arguing until it was time for dinner.

The pack shuffled after her, Allison opting to go to Jimmy John’s as a compromise but the other two humans both shut her down right away.

 

“Why don’t we go through the Burger King drive-through and then pick up-“ Isaac started, always one to try and keep the peace like he had learned from Scott, but he stopped in his track when a familiar, yet unexpected face was waiting for them at the other side of the parking lot.

The betas noticed him much quicker than Allison, Lydia and Stiles did, who looked around frantically and kept asking what the hell was wrong. He really was in no mood to fight blood-thirty wolves or paralyzing snakes _again_. He just wanted a few weeks of peace; was that really too much to ask?

“It’s your lover boy,” Erica sing-sang sweetly, grinning at Stiles who then quickly located the werewolf. It wasn’t her mastered evil kind of smirk though, because the boy could see the genuine happy sparks in her eyes before she winked at him, which was a nice change.

“What is he doing here?” Scott muttered, sounding a little nervous because – like Stiles had admitted earlier that day – seeing the alpha usually meant trouble. Life-or-death kind of trouble.

 

They stood around stupidly for almost a full minute and Stiles didn’t need super-human eyesight to notice the annoyed eyeroll on the alpha. So he was the first to step forward and walk up to Derek, unsure of how to act now that it wasn’t just the two of them.

He could hear an entire pack’s worth of footsteps behind him, and knew they were already too close to sneak in a quick kiss, so he just left about four feet of space in between their bodies and smiled at the wolf in greeting.

“What’s up?” he tried weakly, fighting the urge to add ‘dude’ or ‘buddy’ to that short, yet cringe-worthy sentence, but Derek simply wasn’t having it.

He raised one eyebrow, obviously entirely unimpressed, which had always looked incredibly sexy on the alpha.

He then stepped forward with his eyes fixed on Stiles’, and his nostrils flared like they did whenever he focused on his sense of smell, then curled one arm around the human’s back and pulled him in.

“Hi,” he murmured at him before pressing their lips together. Stiles, completely dumbstruck, just let it happen as he melted into the touch.

Lydia, Allison and Erica all but cooed behind them and the boy didn’t need to look around to know the four were-boys were looking anywhere but at him sucking their alpha’s face.

 

“Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute, no?  
> Tbh, I think they're pretty damn cute, and I can't decide whether I want my own Stiles, or my own Derek.
> 
> If I knew how to add pictures or gifs to these notes, i'd definitely add the "both is good" meme...


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's a wrap.   
> Let me know what you guys think :)

He side-eyed the yawning boy, who was safely tucked beneath his arm, as they watched ‘ _The breakfast club’_ on Stiles’ laptop. Jackson and Boyd had picked it, which was even more bizarre than his entire pack being voluntarily crammed on his couch.

 

Last time this had happened, it had been to keep Stiles company while he was unable to leave the loft – or the couch for that matter.

This time however, they had figured it was easier to just buy fast food at the closest supermarket and crash at their alpha’s place instead of fighting over where to get their after-school snacks. And strangely enough, Derek felt more than a little content with all of his betas and humans around.

The alpha figured he could easily get used to this – _this_ being hanging out with a couple of noisy, bickering teenagers who were willing to roam the woods on their spare Saturday because they _cared_ about him – and that he would probably have to buy a proper tv soon. Because though the wolves’ eyes could easily pick up on all tiny details in the movie, the humans definitely couldn’t. Derek wondered if Stiles was even able to tell who was who in the movie, but he didn’t dwell on it for the boy seemed to enjoy himself nonetheless.

 

Another difference from the last time they had all watched a movie together was that Derek didn’t have to pretend he did not want to touch and smell Stiles all the damn time anymore, because now he could just do it. And if any of his wolves noticed it, he just let his eyes flash red at them in order to get them to look away again.

He had to admit to himself that that was exactly what he been doing for most of the time, just turning his head to nose at the boy’s hair or draw circles into the bare skin of his upper arm with his thumb. Stiles reacted to the tiniest of touches by pressing closer to him and Derek could hear his heart flutter unsteadily every time his lips brushed the human’s ear and neck.

The alpha tried not to think about how fast he could make his heart race if he tried just a little harder; if the others weren’t around to pick up on it too.

 

Stiles hid another yawn behind a fist, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to make as little of noise as possible and Derek had had enough.

Just like the time before, he felt an overwhelming sense of concern overtake his brain completely, the need to protect and take care of Stiles. And this time, there was no need to pretend like that wasn’t exactly the reason of kicking everybody out of the loft.

“Okay,” he said, leaning forward and ignoring Stiles’ soft whine as he was pulled with him as he hit the spacebar to pause the movie, “that’s it.”

“Dude, again?” Jackson protested, looking at him like he had offended him personally. Maybe Derek had; he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, _again,”_ he grinned unkindly. It was a habit he should probably get rid of now that he had Stiles, who kept glancing unapprovingly every time he reflected his authority onto his betas a little more than necessary.

“Stiles needs to rest,” he offered as only explanation, turning to look at the boy with a soft smile on his lips. He brushed his hand through his messy hair and noticed his face radiated warmth and contentment, yet looked tired as hell.

 

“Ugh,” Lydia scoffed, “I should’ve known Stiles would find himself some alpha to boss everybody around for him,” but there was no real heat behind it. Even more so, she was the first to actually get up and shoot her significant other an expecting glance, raising her eyebrows as if the ask “what are you even waiting for?”

The other pack-members followed soon after, and sooner than expected yet later than he had hoped, the two of them were completely alone.

 

Peter was out, and probably wouldn’t be back until the end of the week – if not later – since he was trying to locate the unknown alpha’s pack. Stiles had yet to tell his dad he didn’t hate Derek as much as he might’ve mentioned before and that he wasn’t actually a serial killer or whatever shit the boy had said about him, so he had claimed he was with Scott so he didn’t have to go home anytime soon.

 

“You should get some sleep,” the eldest murmured against Stiles’ ear as he pulled him a little closer to his chest, lips brushing the shell of his ear teasingly. He loved hearing the almost inaudible gasps Stiles let out every time he did something like that and figured it was something he would never _ever_ get tired of.

“Yeah,” the boy agreed reluctantly, and Derek figured it had to be pretty frustrating to be tired all the time while usually Stiles could easily feed on four to five hours of sleep a night.

“But only if you stay here and cuddle me,” he mumbled, already pulling Derek with him as he tried to lie down. Derek shook his head and smiled down at him amusedly, then shifted them around so they could lie more comfortable. Because even though he had little trouble with lying half on top of Stiles, he figured the teenager wouldn’t survive long without oxygen. 

 

So he rolled them over until Derek was on his back, head on the armrest while half of Stiles was pressed in between the couch and his body, the other half on top of the alpha. His hand was sprawled over his heart and his cheek rubbing against his shoulder, breath tickling Derek’s neck softly. The youngest moved his leg up so that it was tangled between the alpha’s own. It seemed like such an innocent movement, just a way to get more comfortable, but when the eldest glanced down he found Stiles grinning up at him smugly.

“Sleep, Stiles,” Derek tried to suppress a chuckle, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead before looking up at the ceiling again, “your body is still healing.”

“Just one kiss,” and the alpha didn’t have to look to know the teenager was practically pouting at him, ready to beg just for the feeling of their lips brushing together. It made Derek’s heart flutter in his chest which made him realize he’d never be able to deny the boy anything anymore.

 

He sighed dramatically, although they both knew he didn’t mean it in the slightest, and let his head lull to the side again, watching as Stiles shifted around and leaned in to press their mouths together.

The kiss started off lazy, just a couple of gentle touches as they breathed against each other, Derek taking in the scent that was Stiles. His hand hold onto the boy’s shoulder while Stiles caressed his chest, then leaned down to place light kisses down his jaw and neck. He hummed as he did it, and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at how happy it sounded.

 

“C’mere,” the eldest mumbled, pulling the boy up with ease and slotting their mouths back together, licking into his mouth despite knowing he was supposed to let Stiles sleep. It was just that after all this time, he was _finally_ allowed to do all this to him, and the werewolf simply couldn’t stop himself anymore.

He wanted Stiles near to him and, more importantly, against him as often as possible. And since the teenager still had to go to school and was surrounded by one or two pack-members at any given time, those rare occasions of being completely alone should be savoured.

 

Stiles moaned softly into the kiss, his tongue coming up to meet Derek’s halfway as his hands started to roam the man’s chest with a lot less grace, like he was just trying to touch as much of him as he could.

 

The alpha was just about to pull away and tell Stiles to get some rest again when the boy shifted and Derek could feel something hard poking into his thigh, the feeling followed by a staggered breath coming from the boy in his arms.

His eyes grew a little wider and his nostrils flared on their own accord. He breathed in sharply through his nose until he couldn’t anymore, and was met with the distinct scent of arousal.

“Stiles,” he murmured against the boy’s lips, because it was all he could come up with to say right now.

“Hmm?” Stiles hummed unintelligibly, blinking up at Derek innocently once they pulled apart. He shifted again, but this time the alpha realised he was actually rocking his hips into Derek’s leg on purpose, turning the wolf on more than he would have expected from such a small movement.

 

The alpha growled low in his throat when he breathed in once more, and within the blink of an eye had them rolling over so that Stiles was on his back and Derek hovering over him, mouths still connected and Derek’s crotch coming down to rub against the boy’s.

“Oh my god,” Stiles muttered with his eyes squeezed shut even when the wolf pulled away from his lips, hips coming down again when he nuzzled his nose in the crook of the younger boy’s neck. He kissed and licked and nibbled at the slightly sweaty skin, only stopping once his eyes were met with the bruise he had made the day before.

Carefully, Derek placed a tender kiss on it, then he side-eyed Stiles to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t get a very satisfactory one, he closed his mouth around it in a wet kiss, sucking on the purple skin until Stiles’ body arched up against his own.

“Fuck, Derek,” he whined, hands desperately clutching the wolf’s back as he continued to rub off against him.

 

The feeling of their erections rubbing together alone was enough for his dick to painfully strain against his zipper but the combination of the sounds – Stiles’ heartbeat hammering against his chest, his blood pulsing through him so quickly, his attempt to keep any embarrassing noises in Derek was able to pick up on anyways – along with the overwhelming scent of sex and pure _want_ had him losing his mind.

He rolled his hips against Stiles over and over again, chasing his lust as he ravished the boy’s neck.

He would _definitely_ get scolded by said boy for leaving too many marks, but he just. couldn’t. stop.

 

“Shit, shit,” Stiles started to really moan now, apparently losing it just as much as he thrusted up to meet Derek’s hips halfway, nails digging into the wolf’s shoulders and leaving tiny half-moons which would be gone within half a second.

“Jesus, Derek, fuck” he babbled, mouth ajar and hair sticking to his forehead as he watched the alpha with full-blown pupils, “I-“

“Hmm?” the wolf hummed against his skin, feeling himself nearing the edge with every roll of his hips. He had thought the days of coming in his own pants were way behind him, but – obviously – Stiles was the exception.

“I’m so close,” Stiles panted, combined with a few other curses and a groan, “and you haven’t-“

He latched onto the other guy’s mouth in the middle of his sentence, pushing his tongue into Derek’s mouth forcefully and a little uncontrollably.

“Haven’t even – _fuck –_ properly touched me yet.”

 

Maybe it was the imagine of being able to _properly touch Stiles_. The idea of him lying beneath him with no clothes separating their bodies whatsoever, Derek’s hands on his pale, fragile body and Stiles pleading him for more. The promise of a day where Derek could kiss _all_ of Stiles, touch every part of him and be even closer than they were now.

Fuck, somewhere in the near future he’d probably even be _inside_ of him.

 

All in all: those thoughts were what eventually send Derek over the edge first.

His entire body stilled, his groin pressed tightly against Stiles and rubbing together as his orgasm was shocked out of him, his arms and legs twitching with the effort of having to hold himself up in order not to crush his boy.

His mouth fell wide open, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed as he let the ecstasy wash over him, Stiles rapid breathing and groaned ‘oh my _god’_  the background music to the sound of the quick beating of his own heart.

 

“Fuck,” he muttered weakly once he had come down, shifting a little so he could reach in between their two bodies and reach down for the bulge in Stiles’ jeans, trying to get him off as well.

“You could say that,” Stiles replied in a staggered breath, loud, high-pitched moans spilling in between the words. His body was starting to shake, and Derek knew it was a matter of seconds now.

He reached down to suck on the rather impressive purple mark on the boy’s neck yet again and pressed his hand down harder, drinking in the sounds of pleasure coming from the boy beneath him.

“ _Fuckfuckfuck, Derek_ ” he cried, body spazzing with the shock of his own orgasm and Derek took a sharp intake of breath through his nose, getting himself drunk on the delicious scent.

 

The alpha kept palming Stiles until his hand was slapped away by him weakly, a low whine coming from his lips as he head lulled to the side tiredly.

“I have died,” he whispered against Derek’s clothed shoulder, only seconds away from drifting off to sleep already, “I have definitely died and gone to heaven. Twice.”

The words were almost non-existent and slurred through his fatigue, but Derek was able to pick up on it.

A smug smile found its way onto his face, and he pressed a quick kiss to Stiles’ sticky forehead.

 

He was about to hoist himself up and get himself – and Stiles, since he was probably tired enough to sleep through it – another pair of boxers and pants, but it was the boy’s vulnerable voice that kept him back.

 

“No.”

 

“Stay.”

 

## ***

 

He would’ve thought he would get bored of staying by Stiles’ sleeping side after a while.

 

He had been wrong.

 

Derek spent the rest of the evening on the couch with his boy, combing his fingers through his messy sex-hair as gentle as possible, watching his face as he went through yet another dream, listening to the words muttered against what seemed to be either dream-Derek or dream-Scott.

He littered his face and neck in chaste kisses, sometimes just letting his lips linger against his colder skin just _because._ Because he wanted to, and because he finally could.

 

The alpha had felt the need to simply hold Stiles and keep him safe for only a couple of weeks now – ever since the whole swimming pool incident – yet those few weeks had been tiring and way, _way_ too long.

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, had never realized it was possible for someone to fall for another being so hard, so quick. But just to have Stiles so close to him, to have the boy risk his own life in order to keep him above the water and away from Jackson; it had somehow opened his eyes to something he had refused to see for quite a while.

 

And then his idiotic betas had gotten him hurt, and brought him to Derek. Which had been _incredibly stupid_ , but had been a blessing from high above at the same time too. Because if that had not happened, Derek might have not had a sleeping Stiles in his arms, tucked against his chest right about now.

 

The alpha’s hand mindlessly slid down Stiles’ torso, only to sneak beneath the fabric of his shirt and push up until his fingers were carefully tracing the thick, purple lines on his chest. They looked ugly and painful and Stiles would probably hate them himself, but Derek wouldn’t be surprised he’d always look at them and see nothing but utter beauty. Partly because of the simple reason of the scars being of – and being _on_ – Stiles, and partly because of what they had caused.

 

The werewolf was pulled from his train of thoughts – which were being way too sappy for his own liking – when Stiles stirred in his arms, frowning and sounding anxious as he muttered Derek’s name. His heart rate picked up and he smelled like whatever was happening to dream-Stiles had to be something pretty serious. Probably something resembling real life as well, Derek knew by now.

“Derek,” he whined again, sounding even more frightened now, and the alpha was quick to grab his hand and squeeze it, all the while leaning down to brush his lips against Stiles’.

“I’m right here,” he whispered the promise, making sure to keep touching Stiles.

“Derek,” he repeated unintelligibly, sounding relieved now instead of scared and with a dopey grin around his lips.

 

“I am not going anywhere. Just sleep tight, baby.”

 

The word should probably have felt like an unfamiliar weight on his tongue; he had _never_ called anyone baby before. Not Paige, and definitely not Kate.

But instead it felt right, and left his heart a little lighter than it was before. Than it had _ever_ been before.

 

“Derek,” Stiles repeated, and the wolf just knew he would be able to listen to him for _hours_ , and still not get tired of it. Because it sounded like so much more than just a name.

“Stiles,” he replied, kissing him once again, a little harder this time. He wasn’t afraid of waking the boy up; Derek remembered when Peter had to yell right into his ear, using his beta-voice in order to get the boy to wake up from a nightmare.

“I love you,” he added as an afterthought. Because it was true, and because he wasn’t sure if he could say it to Stiles when he was awake just yet. It was too much, too soon. Probably.

 

“I love you too,” Stiles mumbled, eyes blinking open and revealing eyes which looked like they were drowning in happy sparks as he looked right into Derek’s.

“ _Baby.”_

And, yeah, Derek should’ve known that one would backfire at him.

 

Whatever.

 

He had him.

 

He had _Stiles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you can probably see; I have made this work part of a series and I am currently working really hard on a second story. I have no idea how long it will be yet, but Im working on it and I will upload it, even if it is the last thing I do.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a tumblr (anymore) so I really hope people will find this story, read it and like it half as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Let me know if you did, because I could use some motivation to finish the last chapter, write maybe a second part or start a new story!!


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